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THEODORE  ROOSEVELT'S 

LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/theodoreroosevel00roos_1 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT'S 

LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


EDITED   BY 

JOSEPH  BUCKLIN   BISHOP 

AUTHOR   OF    "tHEOEMDRE    ROOSEVELT    AND    KI3    TIME  ' 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER^S   SONS 

1923 


3 


Copyright,  1919,  bt 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 3 

In  the  Spanish  War 13 

YouthfuIj  Bible  Cojimentators 17 

Fine  Names  for  Guinea  Pigs 18 

A  Cougar  and  Lynx  Hunt 20 

Dogs  that  Climb  IIiees 23 

The  Pig  Named  Maude 24 

Advice  and  News 25 

Archie  and  Quentin 29 

Incidents  of  Home-Coming 30 

Uncle  Remus  and  White  House  Pets 34 

The  Dog  "Gem" 35 

Presidential  Nurse  for  Guinea  Pigs 36 

Thanksgiving  in  the  White  House 37 

A  White  House  Christmas 38 

Tom  Quartz  and  Jack 41 

A  Far  Western  Trip 44 

Tame  Wild  Creatures 44 

[v] 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Western  Customs  and  Scenery 44 

Treasures  for  the  Children 46 

More  Treasures 47 

A  Homesick  President 48 

Josiah's  Passionate  Day 49 

Loves  and  Sports  of  the  Children 50 

A  President  at  Play 53 

To  Ted  on  a  Hunting  Trip 56 

End  of  Summer  at  Oyster  Bay 58 

*'Valuablest"  Kind  of  Rabbits 59 

A  Preaching  Letter 60 

Proper  Place  for  Sports 61 

Concerning  Getting  "Smashed'* 66 

The  Art  of  Uncle  Remus 67 

A  Ride  and  a  Pillow  Fight 68 

Study  and  Play 70 

Quentin's  First  Fall 71 

Homesick  for  Sagamore  Hill 73 

Joy  Over  a  Football  Victory 74 

Vice-Mother  of  the  Children 75 

Quentin's  Sixth  Birthday 76 

A  President's  Poor  Protection 77 

[  vi  ] 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Ted's  Sprained  Ankle 80 

The  Supreme  Christmas  Joy 81 

A  Day  with  a  Juggler 82 

Merits  of  Military  and  Civil  Life 83 

Root  and  Taft 89 

Senator  Hanna's  Death 91 

Irritating  Remark  by  Quentin 92 

Japanese  Wrestling 93 

Love  for  the  White  House 95 

Peter  Rabbit's  Funeral 96 

Charms  of  Valley  Forge 101 

Washington's  Companions  at  Valley  Forge  .    .    .  102 

On  the  Eve  of  Nomination  for  President     ...  103 

Bill  the  Lizard 105 

On  the  Eve  of  Election 106 

Big  Jim  White 109 

Winter  Life  in  the  W^hite  House 110 

Playmate  of  the  Children 112 

A  Japanese  Boy's  Letter 113 

On  Counting  Days  and  Wrestling 115 

Spring  in  Washington 118 

A  Hunting  Trip 119 

[vii] 


CONTENTS 

VAon 

Abernethy  the  Wolf  Hunter 121 

Prairie  Giri^ 124 

Bears,  Bobcats  and  Skip 125 

Home  Again  with  Skip 126^ 

Skip  in  the  White  House 12S 

Officers  of  Togo's  Fleet 129' 

A  President  as  Cook ISO 

Quentin's  Quaint  Sayings 134 

Advice  Regarding  Newspaper  Annoyances.  .    .    .  13& 

Incidents  of  a  Southern  Trip 141 

Poets  and  Princes 144 

Novels  and  Games 145 

Christmas  Present  to  His  Old  Nurse 148 

Dickens  and  Thackeray 149 

A  Tribute  to  Archie 151 

Pillow  Fights  with  the  Boys 153 

Sorrows  of  Skip 155 

"An  Interesting  Circus  Experience'* 156 

A  Big  and  Lonely  White  House 157 

A  New  Puppy  and  a  New  Horse 157 

A  QuENTiN  Anecdote 159 

A  Visit  to  Washington's  Birthplace 161 

[  viii  ] 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

More  About  Dickens 164 

No  Place  Like  Sagamore  Hill 165 

Attic  Delights 166 

Presidential  Rescue  of  a  Kitten 167 

Sports  of  Quentin  and  Archie 169 

Skip  and  Archie 169 

A  Turkey  Hunt  at  Pine  Knot 170 

Pets  on  Shipboard 172 

Names  of  the  Guns 173 

Reflections  on  the  Way 174 

Events  Since  Columbus's  Discovery 176 

Pride  in  America 177 

What  the  President  Saw  at  Panama 179 

On  the  Way  to  Porto  Rico 185 

What  He  Saw  in  Porto  Rico 186 

Sickness  of  Archie 192 

At  the  Jamestown  Exposition 19l! 

General  Kuroki 196 

Temporary  Absence  of  Skip 197 

Death  of  Skip 198 

Quentin's  Snake  Adventure 199 

Trials  of  a  Travelling  President 201 

[ix] 


CONTENTS 

Changes  of  Three  Centuries 202 

Peculiarities  of  Mississippi  Steamboats 206 

The  Lone  Cat  of  the  Camp 208 

Shooting  the  Bear 216 

Quentin's  "Exquisite  Jest" 217 

Tom  Pinch 218 

"Martin  Chuzzlewit" 219 

Good  Reading  for  Pacifists 221 

Quentin  as  a  Ball-Player 222 

Four  Sheepish  Small  Boys 225 

John  Burroughs  and  the  Flying  Squirrels  .    .    .  226 

Beauty  of  White  House  Grounds 227 

Quentin  and  a  Beehive 228 

Quentin  and  Turner 230 

Quentin  and  the  Pig 231 

A  Presidential  Fall 232 

More  About  Quentin 233 

Tribute  to  Kermit 236 

Longing  for  Home 237 

The  Last  Hunt 239 

Quentin  Grown-up 240 


[x] 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT'S 

LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 


INTRODUCTION 

Most  of  the  letters  in  this  volume  were  written 
by  Theodore  Roosevelt  to  his  children  during  a 
period  of  more  than  a  dozen  years.  A  few  others 
are  included  that  he  wrote  to  friends  or  relatives 
about  the  children.  He  began  to  write  to  them 
in  their  early  childhood,  and  continued  to  do  so 
regularly  till  they  reached  maturity.  Whenever 
he  was  separated  from  them,  in  the  Spanish  War, 
or  on  a  hunting  trip,  or  because  they  were  at 
school,  he  sent  them  these  messages  of  constant 
thought  and  love,  for  they  were  never  for  a  mo- 
ment out  of  his  mind  and  heart.  Long  before 
they  were  able  to  read  he  sent  them  what  they 
called  "picture  letters,"  with  crude  drawings  of 
his  own  in  illustration  of  the  written  text,  draw- 
ings precisely  adapted  to  the  childish  imagination 
and  intelligence.  That  the  little  recipients  cher- 
ished these  delightful  missives  is  shown  by  the 
tender  care  with  which  they  preserved  them  from 

[3] 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT'S 


destruction.  They  are  in  good  condition  after 
many  years  of  loving  usage.  A  few  of  them  are 
reproduced  in  these  pages — written  at  different 
periods  as  each  new  child  appeared  in  the  house- 
hold. 

These  early  letters  are  marked  by  the  same 
-quality  that  distinguishes  all  his  letters  to  his 
children.  From  the  youngest  to  the  eldest,  he 
wrote  to  them  always  as  his  equals.  As  they  ad- 
vanced in  life  the  mental  level  of  intercourse  was 
raised  as  they  grew  in  intelligence  and  knowledge, 
but  it  was  always  as  equals  that  he  addressed 
them.  He  was  always  their  playmate  and  boon 
companion,  whether  they  were  toddling  infants 
taking  their  first  faltering  steps,  or  growing 
schoolboys,  or  youths  standing  at  the  threshold 
of  life.  Their  games  were  his  games,  their  joys 
those  of  his  own  heart.  He  was  ready  to  romp 
with  them  in  the  old  barn  at  Sagamore  Hill,  play 
"tickley"  at  bedtime,  join  in  their  pillow  fights, 
or  play  hide-and-seek  with  them,  either  at  Saga- 
more Hill  or  in  the  White  House.  He  was  the 
same  chosen  and  joyous  companion  always  and 

[4] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


everywhere.  Occasionally  he  was  disturbed  for  a 
moment  about  possible  injury  to  his  Presidential 
dignity.  Describing  a  romp  in  the  old  barn  at 
Sagamore  Hill  in  the  summer  of  1903,  he  said  in 
one  of  his  letters  that  under  the  insistence  of  the 
children  he  had  joined  in  it  because:  "I  had  not 
the  heart  to  refuse,  but  really  it  seems,  to  put  it 
mildly,  rather  odd  for  a  stout,  elderly  President 
to  be  bouncing  over  hayricks  in  a  wild  effort  to 
get  to  goal  before  an  active  midget  of  a  competi- 
tor, aged  nine  years.  However,  it  was  really 
great  fun." 

It  was  because  he  at  heart  regarded  it  as  "great 
fun"  and  was  in  complete  accord  with  the  children 
that  they  delighted  in  him  as  a  playmate.  In 
the  same  spirit,  in  January,  1905,  he  took  a  squad 
of  nine  boys,  including  three  of  his  own,  on  what 
they  called  a  "scramble"  through  Rock  Creek 
Park,  in  Washington,  w^hich  meant  traversing  the 
most  difficult  places  in  it.  The  boys  had  permis- 
sion to  make  the  trip  alone,  but  they  insisted 
upon  his  company.  "I  am  really  touched,"  he 
wrote   afterward   to   the   parents  of  two  of  the 

[5] 


THEODORE  ROOSEMELT'S 


visiting  boys,  "at  the  way  in  which  your  children 
as  well  as  my  own  treat  me  as  a  friend  and  play- 
mate. It  has  its  comic  side.  They  were  all  bent 
upon  lia\ang  me  take  them;  they  ob\'iously  felt 
that  my  presence  was  needed  to  give  zest  to  the 
entertainment.  I  do  not  think  that  one  of  them 
saw  anything  incongruous  in  the  President's  get- 
ting as  bedaubed  with  mud  as  they  got,  or  in  my 
wiggling  and  clambering  around  jutting  rocks, 
through  cracks,  and  up  what  were  really  small 
cliff  faces,  just  like  the  rest  of  them;  and  when- 
ever any  one  of  them  beat  me  at  any  point,  he 
felt  and  expressed  simple  and  whole-hearted  de- 
light, exactly  as  if  it  had  been  a  triumph  over  a 
rival  of  his  own  age." 

WTien  the  time  came  that  he  was  no  longer  the 
children's  chosen  plajTnate,  he  recognized  the  fact 
with  a  twinge  of  sadness.  Writing  in  January, 
1905,  to  his  daughter  Ethel,  who  was  at  Sagamore 
Hill  at  the  time,  he  said  of  a  party  of  boys  that 
Quentin  had  at  the  TMiite  House:  "They  played 
hard,  and  it  made  me  realize  how  old  I  had  grown 
and  how  very  busy  I  had  been  the  last  few  years 

[6] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

to  find  that  they  had  grown  so  that  I  was  not 
needed  in  the  play.  Do  you  recollect  how  we 
all  of  us  used  to  play  hide  and  go  seek  in  the 
White  House,  and  have  obstacle  races  down  the 
hall  when  you  brought  in  your  friends?" 

Deep  and  abiding  love  of  children,  of  family  and 
home,  that  was  the  dominating  passion  of  his  life. 
With  that  went  love  for  friends  and  fellow  men, 
and  for  all  living  things,  birds,  animals,  trees, 
flowers,  and  nature  in  all  its  moods  and  aspects. 
But  love  of  children  and  family  and  home  was 
above  all.  The  children  always  had  an  old- 
fashioned  Christmas  in  the  Wliite  House.  In 
several  letters  in  these  pages,  descriptions  of  these 
festivals  will  be  found.  In  closing  one  of  them 
the  eternal  child's  heart  in  the  man  cries  out:  "I 
wonder  whether  there  ever  can  come  in  life  a 
thrill  of  greater  exaltation  and  rapture  than  that 
which  comes  to  one  between  the  ages  of  say 
six  and  fourteen,  when  the  library  door  is  tlirown 
open  and  you  walk  in  to  see  all  the  gifts,  like  a 
materialized  fair^^  land,  arrayed  on  your  special 
table  .^" 

[7] 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT'S 


His  love  for  the  home  he  had  built  and  in  which 
his  beloved  children  had  been  born,  was  not  even 
dimmed  by  his  life  in  the  White  House.  "After 
all,"  he  wrote  to  Ethel  in  June,  1906,  "fond  as  I 
am  of  the  TMiite  House  and  much  though  I  have 
appreciated  these  years  in  it,  there  isn't  any  place 
in  the  world  like  home — like  Sagamore  Hill,  where 
things  are  our  own,  with  their  own  associations, 
and  where  it  is  real  country." 

Through  all  his  letters  runs  his  inexhaustible 
vein  of  delicious  humor.  All  the  quaint  sayings 
of  Quentin,  that  quaintest  of  small  boys;  all  the 
antics  of  the  household  cats  and  dogs;  all  the 
comic  aspects  of  the  guinea-pigs  and  others  of  the 
large  menagerie  of  pets  that  the  children  were 
always  collecting;  all  the  tricks  and  feats  of  the 
saddle-horses — these,  together  with  every  item  of 
household  news  that  would  amuse  and  cheer  and 
keep  alive  the  love  of  home  in  the  heart  of  the 
absent  boys,  was  set  forth  in  letters  which  in 
gayety  of  spirit  and  charm  of  manner  have  few 
equals  in  literature  and  no  superiors.  No  matter 
how  great  the  pressure  of  public  duties,  or  how 

[8] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

severe  the  strain  that  the  trials  and  burdens  of 
office  placed  upon  the  nerves  and  spirits  of  the 
President  of  a  great  nation,  this  devoted  father 
and  whole-hearted  companion  found  time  to  send 
every  week  a  long  letter  of  this  delightful  charac- 
ter to  each  of  his  absent  children. 

As  the  boys  advanced  toward  manhood  the  let- 
ters, still  on  the  basis  of  equality,  contain  much 
wise  suggestion  and  occasional  admonition,  the 
latter  always  administered  in  a  loving  spirit  ac- 
companied by  apology  for  writing  in  a  "preach- 
ing" vein.  The  playmate  of  childhood  became 
the  sympathetic  and  keenly  interested  companion 
in  all  athletic  contests,  in  the  reading  of  books  and 
the  consideration  of  authors,  and  in  the  discus- 
sion of  politics  and  public  affairs.  Many  of  these 
letters,  notably  those  on  the  relative  merits  of 
civil  and  military  careers,  and  the  proper  propor- 
tions of  sport  and  study,  are  valuable  guides  for 
youth  in  all  ranks  of  life.  The  strong,  vigorous, 
exalted  character  of  the  writer  stands  revealed  in 
these  as  in  all  the  other  letters,  as  well  as  the 
cheerful  soul  of  the  man  which  remained  through- 

[9] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

out  his  life  as  pure  and  gentle  as  the  soul  of  a 
child.  Only  a  short  time  before  he  died,  he  said 
to  me,  as  we  were  going  over  the  letters  and  plan- 
ning this  volume,  which  is  arranged  as  he  wished 
it  to  be:  "I  would  rather  have  this  book  published 
than  anything  that  has  ever  been  written  about 
me." 


[10 


THE  LETTERS 


THE  LETTERS 

IN   THE   SPANISH   WAR 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  with  Spain  in  the 
spring  of  1898  Theodore  Roosevelt,  who  was  then 
Assistant  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  in  association 
with  Leonard  Wood,  organized  the  Regiment  of 
Rough  Riders  and  went  into  camp  with  them  at 
Tampa,  Florida.  Later  he  went  with  his  regi- 
ment to  Cuba. 

T»  T»  Camp  at  Tampa,  May  6th,  '98. 

Blessed  Bunnies, 

It  has  been  a  real  holiday  to  have  darling 
mother  here.  Yesterday  I  brought  her  out  to 
the  camp,  and  she  saw  it  all — the  men  drilling, 
the  tents  in  long  company  streets,  the  horses 
being  taken  to  water,  my  little  horse  Texas,  the 
colonel  and  the  majors,  and  finally  the  mountain 
lion  and  the  jolly  little  dog  Cuba,  who  had  several 
fights  while  she  looked  on.  The  mountain  lion  is 
not  much  more  than  a  kitten  as  yet,  but  it  is 
very  cross  and  treacherous. 

I  was  very  much  interested  in  Kermit's  and 
Ethel's  letters  to-day. 

[13] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

We  were  all,  horses  and  men,  four  days  and 
four  nights  on  the  cars  coming  here  from  San 
Antonio,  and  were  very  tired  and  very  dirty 
when  we  arrived.  I  was  up  almost  all  of  each 
night,  for  it  happened  always  to  be  at  night  when 
we  took  the  horses  out  of  the  cars  to  feed  and 
water  them. 

Mother  stays  at  a  big  hotel  about  a  mile  from 
camp.  There  are  nearly  thirty  thousand  troops 
here  now,  besides  the  sailors  from  the  war-ships  in 
the  bay.  At  night  the  corridors  and  piazzas  are 
thronged  with  officers  of  the  army  and  navy;  the 
older  ones  fought  in  the  great  Civil  War,  a  third 
of  a  century  ago,  and  now  they  are  all  going  to 
Cuba  to  war  against  the  Spaniards.  Most  of 
them  are  in  blue,  but  our  rough-riders  are  in 
brown.  Our  camp  is  on  a  great  flat,  on  sandy  soil 
without  a  tree,  though  round  about  are  pines  and 
palmettos.  It  is  very  hot,  indeed,  but  there  are 
no  mosquitoes.  Marshall  is  very  well,  and  he 
takes  care  of  my  things  and  of  the  two  horses. 
A  general  was  out  to  inspect  us  when  we  were 
drilling  to-day. 

[14] 


PAWNEE   INDIAN  DOG   PICTURE 


T^  T^  Off  Santiago,  1808. 

Darling  Ethel: 

We  are  near  shore  now  and  everything  is  in  a 
bustle,  for  we  may  have  to  disembark  to-night, 
and  I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  have  another 
chance  to  write  to  my  three  blessed  children, 
whose  little  notes  please  me  so.  This  is  only  a  line 
to  tell  you  all  how  much  father  loves  you.  The 
Pawnee  Indian  drew  you  the  picture  of  the  little 


dog,  which  runs  everywhere  round  the  ship,  and 
now  and  then  howls  a  little  when  the  band  plays. 

[15] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

Darling  Ethel:  ^^^'  ^^^*^^s^'  ^^^  ^^'  1^^«- 

I  loved  your  little  letter.  Here  there  are  lots 
of  funny  little  lizards  that  run  about  in  the  dusty 
roads  very  fast,  and  then  stand  still  with  their 
heads  up.  Beautiful  red  cardinal  birds  and  tan- 
agers  flit  about  in  the  woods,  and  the  flowers  are 
lovely.  But  you  never  saw  such  dust.  Some- 
times I  lie  on  the  ground  outside  and  sometimes 
in  the  tent.  I  have  a  mosquito  net  because  there 
are  so  many  mosquitoes. 

Camp  near  Santiago,  July  15,  1898. 

Darling  Ethel: 

When  it  rains  here — and  it's  very  apt  to  rain 
here  every  day — it  comes  down  just  as  if  it  was  a 
torrent  of  water.  The  other  night  I  hung  up  my 
hammock  in  my  tent  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  there  was  a  terrific  storm,  and  my  tent  and 
hammock  came  down  with  a  run.  The  water 
was  running  over  the  ground  in  a  sheet,  and  the 
mud  was  knee-deep;  so  I  was  a  drenched  and 
muddy  object  when  I  got  to  a  neighboring  tent, 
where  I  was  given  a  blanket,  in  which  I  rolled  up 
and  went  to  sleep. 

[16] 


GOLLYWOG  SIIVIPLICITY 


There  is  a  funny  little  lizard  that  comes  into 
my  tent  and  is  quite  tame  now;  he  jumps  about 
like  a  little  frog  and  puffs  his  throat  out.  There 
are  ground-doves  no  bigger  than  big  sparrows, 
and  cuckoos  almost  as  large  as  crows. 

YOUTHFUL  BIBLE   COMIVIENTATORS 
{To  Miss  Emily  T.  Carow) 

Oyster  Bay,  Dec.  8,  1900. 
The  other  day  I  listened  to  a  most  amusing 
dialogue  at  the  Bible  lesson  between  Kermit  and 
Ethel.  The  subject  was  Joseph,  and  just  before 
reading  it  they  had  been  reading  Quentin's  book 
containing  the  adventures  of  the  Gollywogs. 
Joseph's  conduct  in  repeating  his  dream  to  his 
brothers,  whom  it  was  certain  to  irritate,  had 
struck  both  of  the  children  unfavorably,  as  con- 
flicting both  with  the  laws  of  common-sense  and 
with  the  advice  given  them  by  their  parents  as 
to  the  proper  method  of  dealing  with  their  own 
brothers  and  sisters.  Kermit  said:  *'Well,  I  think 
that  was  very  foolish  of  Joseph."  Ethel  chimed 
in  with  "So  do  I,  very  foolish,  and  I  do  not  under- 
stand how  he  could  have  done  it."     Then,  after  a 

[17] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

pause,  Kermit  added  thoughtfully  by  way  of 
explanation:  "Well,  I  guess  he  was  simple,  like 
Jane  in  the  Gollywogs":  and  Ethel  nodded  gravely 
in  confirmation. 

It  is  very  cunning  to  see  Kermit  and  Archie 
go  to  the  Cove  school  together.  They  also  come 
down  and  chop  with  me,  Archie  being  armed  with 
a  hatchet  blunt  enough  to  be  suitable  for  his  six 
years.  He  is  a  most  industrious  small  chopper, 
and  the  other  day  gnawed  down,  or  as  the  chil- 
dren call  it,  '*beavered"  down,  a  misshapen  tulip 
tree,  which  was  about  fifty  feet  high. 

FINE  NAMES  FOR  GUINEA  PIGS 
{To  E.  S.  Martin) 

Oyster  Bay,  Nov.  22,  1900. 
Mrs.  Roosevelt  and  I  were  more  touched  than 
I  can  well  say  at  your  sending  us  your  book  with 
its  characteristic  insertion  and  above  all  with  the 
little  extract  from  your  boy's  note  about  Ted.  In 
what  Form  is  your  boy  ?  As  you  have  laid  your- 
self open,  I  shall  tell  you  that  Ted  sings  in  the 
choir  and  is  captain  of  his  dormitory  football 

[18] 


NOVEL  GUINEA  PIG  NAMES 

team.  He  was  awfully  homesick  at  first,  but 
now  he  has  won  his  place  in  his  own  little  world 
and  he  is  all  right.  In  his  last  letter  to  his  mother 
in  response  to  a  question  about  his  clothes  he 
answered  that  they  were  in  good  condition,  ex- 
cepting '*that  one  pair  of  pants  was  split  up  the 
middle  and  one  jacket  had  lost  a  sleeve  in  a 
scuffle,  and  in  another  pair  of  pants  he  had  sat 
down  in  a  jam  pie  at  a  cellar  spread."  We  have 
both  missed  him  greatly  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
we  have  five  remaining.  Did  I  ever  tell  you 
about  my  second  small  boy's  names  for  his  Guinea 
pigs?  They  included  Bishop  Doane;  Dr.  John- 
son, my  Dutch  Reformed  pastor;  Father  G. 
Grady,  the  local  priest  with  whom  the  children 
had  scraped  a  speaking  acquaintance;  Fighting 
Bob  Evans,  and  Admiral  Dewey.  Some  of  my 
Republican  supporters  in  West  Virginia  have  just 
sent  me  a  small  bear  which  the  children  of  their 
own  accord  christened  Jonathan  Edwards,  partly 
out  of  compliment  to  their  mother's  ancestor,  and 
partly  because  they  thought  they  detected  Cal- 
vinistic  traits  in  the  bear's  character. 

[19] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

A   COUGAR  AND   LYNX  HUNT 

Keystone  Ranch,  Colo.,  Jan.  14th,  1901. 

Blessed  Ted, 

From  the  railroad  we  drove  fifty  miles  to  the 
little  frontier  town  of  Meeker.  There  we  were 
met  by  the  hunter  Goff,  a  fine,  quiet,  hardy  fel- 
low, who  knows  his  business  thoroughly.  Next 
morning  we  started  on  horseback,  while  our  lug- 
gage went  by  wagon  to  Goff's  ranch.  We  started 
soon  after  sunrise,  and  made  our  way,  hunting  as 
we  went,  across  the  high,  exceedingly  rugged  hills, 
until  sunset.  We  were  hunting  cougar  and  lynx 
or,  as  they  are  called  out  here,  "lion"  and  "cat."\ 
The  first  cat  we  put  up  gave  the  dogs  a  two  hours' 
chase,  and  got  away  among  some  high  cliffs.  In 
the  afternoon  we  put  up  another,  and  had  a  very 
good  hour's  run,  the  dogs  baying  until  the  glens 
rang  again  to  the  echoes,  as  they  worked  hither 
and  thither  through  the  ravines.  We  walked  our 
ponies  up  and  down  steep,  rock-strewn,  and  tree- 
clad  slopes,  where  it  did  not  seem  possible  a  horse 
could  climb,  and  on  the  level  places  we  got  one 
or  two  smart  gallops.     At  last  the  lynx  went  up 

[20] 


A  REALLY  FUNNY  SIGHT 


a  tree.  Then  I  saw  a  really  funny  sight.  Seven 
hounds  had  been  doing  the  trailing,  while  a  large 
brindled  bloodhound  and  tv/o  half-breeds  between 
collie  and  bull  stayed  behind  Goff,  running  so 
close  to  his  horse's  heels  that  they  continually 
bumped  into  them,  which  he  accepted  with  philo- 
sophic composure.  Then  the  dogs  proceeded 
literally  to  climb  the  tree,  which  was  a  many -forked 
pinon;  one  of  the  half-breeds,  named  Tony,  got 
up  certainly  sixteen  feet,  until  the  lynx,  which 
looked  like  a  huge  and  exceedingly  malevolent 
pussy-cat,  made  vicious  dabs  at  him.  I  shot  the 
lynx  low,  so  as  not  to  hurt  his  skin. 

Yesterday  we  were  in  the  saddle  for  ten  hours. 
The  dogs  ran  one  lynx  down  and  killed  it  among 
the  rocks  after  a  vigorous  scuffle.  It  was  in  a 
hole  and  only  two  of  them  could  get  at  it. 

This  morning,  soon  after  starting  out,  we  struck 
the  cold  trail  of  a  mountain  lion.  The  hounds 
puzzled  about  for  nearly  two  hours,  going  up  and 
down  the  great  gorges,  until  we  sometimes  abso- 
lutely lost  even  the  sound  of  the  baying.  Then 
they  struck  the  fresh  trail,  where  the  cougar  had 

[21] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

killed  a  deer  over  night.  In  half  an  hour  a  clam- 
orous yelling  told  us  they  had  overtaken  the 
quarry;  for  we  had  been  riding  up  the  slopes  and 
along  the  crests,  wherever  it  was  possible  for  the 
horses  to  get  footing.  As  we  plunged  and  scram- 
bled down  towards  the  noise,  one  of  my  com- 
panions, Phil  Stewart,  stopped  us  while  he  took  a 
kodak  of  a  rabbit  which  sat  unconcernedly  right 
beside  our  path.  Soon  we  saw  the  lion  in  a  tree- 
top,  with  two  of  the  dogs  so  high  up  among  the 
branches  that  he  was  striking  at  them.  He  was 
more  afraid  of  us  than  of  the  dogs,  and  as  soon  as 
he  saw  us  he  took  a  great  flying  leap  and  was  off, 
the  pack  close  behind.  In  a  few  hundred  yards 
they  had  him  up  another  tree.  Here  I  could 
have  shot  him  (Tony  climbed  almost  up  to  him, 
and  then  fell  twenty  feet  out  of  the  tree),  but 
waited  for  Stewart  to  get  a  photo;  and  he  jumped 
again.  This  time,  after  a  couple  of  hundred 
yards,  the  dogs  caught  him,  and  a  great  fight  fol- 
lowed. They  could  have  killed  him  by  them- 
selves, but  he  bit  or  clawed  four  of  them,  and  for 
fear  he  might  kill  one  I  ran  in  and  stabbed  him 
behind    the    shoulder,    thrusting    the   knife   you 

[22] 


DOGS  THAT  CLIMB  TREES 

loaned  me  right  into  his  heart.  I  have  always 
wished  to  kill  a  cougar  as  I  did  this  one,  with 
dogs  and  the  knife. 

DOGS  THAT   CLIMB   TREES 

Keystone  Ranch,  Jan.  18,  1901. 

Darling  little  Ethel: 

I  have  had  great  fun.  Most  of  the  trip  neither 
you  nor  Mother  nor  Sister  would  enjoy;  but  you 
would  all  of  you  be  immensely  amused  with  the 
dogs.  There  are  eleven  all  told,  but  really  only 
eight  do  very  much  hunting.  These  eight  are  all 
scarred  with  the  wounds  they  have  received  this 
very  week  in  battling  with  the  cougars  and 
lynxes,  and  they  are  always  threatening  to  fight 
one  another;  but  they  are  as  affectionate  toward 
men  (and  especially  toward  me,  as  I  pet  them) 
as  our  own  home  dogs.  At  this  moment  a  large 
hound  and  a  small  half-breed  bull-dog,  both  of 
whom  were  quite  badly  wounded  this  morning 
by  a  cougar,  are  shoving  their  noses  into  my  lap 
to  be  petted,  and  humming  defiance  to  one  an- 
other. They  are  on  excellent  terms  with  the 
ranch  cat  and  kittens.     The  three  chief  fighting 

[23] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

dogs,  who  do  not  follow  the  trail,  are  the  most 
affectionate  of  all,  and,  moreover,  they  climb 
trees !  Yesterday  we  got  a  big  lynx  in  the  top  of 
a  pinon  tree — a  low,  spreading  kind  of  pine — 
about  thirty  feet  tall.  Turk,  the  bloodhound, 
followed  him  up,  and  after  much  sprawling  actu- 
ally got  to  the  very  top,  within  a  couple  of  feet  of 
him.  Then,  when  the  lynx  was  shot  out  of  the 
tree,  Turk,  after  a  short  scramble,  took  a  header 
down  through  the  branches,  landing  with  a  bounce 
on  his  back.  Tony,  one  of  the  half-breed  bull- 
dogs, takes  such  headers  on  an  average  at  least 
once  for  every  animal  we  put  up  a  tree.  We  have 
nice  little  horses  which  climb  the  most  extraordi- 
nary places  you  can  imagine.  Get  Mother  to 
show  you  some  of  Gustave  Dore's  trees;  the  trees 
on  these  mountains  look  just  like  them. 

THE   PIG   NAMED   MAUDE 

Keystone  Ranch,  Jan.  29,  1901. 

Darling  little  Ethel: 

You  would  be  much  amused  with  the  animals 
round  the  ranch.     The  most  thoroughly  indepen- 

[24] 


WRINKLED-NOSED  PUPPIES 

dent  and  self-possessed  of  them  is  a  large  white 
pig  which  we  have  christened  Maude.  She  goes 
everywhere  at  her  own  will;  she  picks  up  scraps 
from  the  dogs,  who  bay  dismally  at  her,  but  know 
they  have  no  right  to  kill  her;  and  then  she  eats 
the  green  alfalfa  hay  from  the  two  milch  cows 
who  live  in  the  big  corral  with  the  horses.  One 
of  the  dogs  has  just  had  a  litter  of  puppies;  you 
would  love  them,  with  their  little  wrinkled  noses 
and  squeaky  voices. 

ADVICE  AND   NEWS 

Blessed  Ted  :  ^>'^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^'  ^^^'  ^^^^' 

It  was  the  greatest  fun  seeing  you,  and  I  really 
had  a  satisfactory  time  with  you,  and  came  away 
feeling  that  you  were  doing  well.  I  am  entirely 
satisfied  with  your  standing,  both  in  your  studies 
and  in  athletics.  I  want  you  to  do  well  in  your 
sports,  and  I  want  even  more  to  have  you  do  well 
with  your  books;  but  I  do  not  expect  you  to  stand 
first  in  either,  if  so  to  stand  could  cause  you  over- 
work and  hurt  your  health.  I  always  believe 
in  going  hard  at  everything,  whether  it  is  Latin 

[25] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

or  mathematics,  boxing  or  football,  but  at  the 
same  time  I  want  to  keep  the  sense  of  proportion. 
It  is  never  worth  while  to  absolutely  exhaust 
one's  self  or  to  take  big  chances  unless  for  an  ade- 
quate object.  I  want  you  to  keep  in  training  the 
faculties  which  would  make  you,  if  the  need  arose, 
able  to  put  your  last  ounce  of  pluck  and  strength 
into  a  contest.  But  I  do  not  want  you  to  squan- 
der these  qualities.  To  have  you  play  football 
as  well  as  you  do,  and  make  a  good  name  in  box- 
ing and  wrestling,  and  be  cox  of  your  second  crew, 
and  stand  second  or  third  in  your  class  in  the 
studies,  is  all  right.  I  should  be  rather  sorry  to 
see  you  drop  too  near  the  middle  of  your  class, 
because,  as  you  cannot  enter  college  until  you  are 
nineteen,  and  will  therefore  be  a  year  later  in 
entering  life,  I  want  you  to  be  prepared  in  the 
best  possible  way,  so  as  to  make  up  for  the  delay. 
But  I  know  that  all  you  can  do  you  will  do  to 
keep  substantially  the  position  in  the  class  that 
you  have  so  far  kept,  and  I  have  entire  trust  in 
you,  for  you  have  always  deserved  it. 

The  weather  has  been  lovely  here.     The  cherry 
[26] 


A  WHITE  GUINEA  PIG 


trees  are  in  full  bloom,  the  peach  trees  just  open- 
ing, while  the  apples  will  not  be  out  for  ten  days. 
The  May  flowers  and  bloodroot  have  gone,  the 
anemonies  and  bellwort  have  come  and  the  violets 
are  coming.  All  the  birds  are  here,  pretty  much, 
and  the  warblers  troop  through  the  woods. 

To  my  delight,  yesterday  Kermit,  when  I  tried 
him  on  Diamond,  did  excellently.  He  has  evi- 
dently turned  the  corner  in  his  riding,  and  was 
just  as  much  at  home  as  possible,  although  he 
was  on  my  saddle  with  his  feet  thrust  in  the 
leathers  above  the  stirrup.  Poor  mother  has  had 
a  hard  time  with  Yagenka,  for  she  rubbed  her 
back,  and  as  she  sadly  needs  exercise  and  I  could 
not  have  a  saddle  put  upon  her,  I  took  her  out 
bareback  yesterday.  Her  gaits  are  so  easy  that 
it  is  really  more  comfortable  to  ride  her  without 
a  saddle  than  to  ride  Texas  with  one.  and  I  gave 
her  three  miles  sharp  cantering  and  trotting. 

Dewey  Jr.  is  a  very  cunning  white  guinea  pig. 
I  wish  you  could  see  Kermit  taking  out  Dewey 
Sr.  and  Bob  Evans  to  spend  the  day  on  the  grass. 
Archie  is  the  sweetest  little  fellow  imaginable^ 

[27] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


He  is  always  thinking  of  you.  He  has  now  struck 
up  a  great  friendship  with  Nicholas,  rather  to 
Mame's  (the  nurse's)  regret,  as  Mame  would  like 
to  keep  him  purely  for  Quentin.  The  last-named 
small  boisterous  person  was  in  fearful  disgrace 
this  morning,  having  flung  a  block  at  his  mother's 
head.  It  was  done  in  sheer  playfulness,  but  of 
course  could  not  be  passed  over  lightly,  and  after 
the  enormity  of  the  crime  had  been  brought  fully 
home  to  him,  he  fled  with  howls  of  anguish  to 
me  and  lay  in  an  abandon  of  yellow-headed  grief 
in  my  arms.  Ethel  is  earning  money  for  the 
purchase  of  the  Art  Magazine  by  industriously 
hoeing  up  the  weeds  in  the  walk.  Alice  is  going 
to  ride  Yagenka  bareback  this  afternoon,  while  I 
try  to  teach  Ethel  on  Diamond,  after  Kermit  has 
had  his  ride. 

Yesterday  at  dinner  we  were  talking  of  how 
badly  poor  Mrs.  Blank  looked,  and  Kermit  sud- 
denly observed  in  an  aside  to  Ethel,  entirely  un- 
conscious that  we  were  listening:  "Oh,  Effel,  I'll 
tell  you  what  Mrs.  Blank  looks  like:  Like  Davis' 
hen  dat  died — you  know,  de  one  dat  couldn't  hop 

[28] 


QUENTIN  MADE  MISERABLE 

up   on   de  perch."     Naturally,   this   is  purely   a 
private  anecdote. 

ARCHIE  AND    QUENTIN 

T>  rr.  Oyster  Bay,  May  7,  1901. 

Blessed  Ted: 

Recently  I  have  gone  in  to  play  with  Archie 
and  Quentin  after  they  have  gone  to  bed,  and  they 
have  grown  to  expect  me,  jumping  up,  very  soft 
and  warm  in  their  tommies,  expecting  me  to  roll 
them  over  on  the  bed  and  tickle  and  "grabble" 
in  them.  However,  it  has  proved  rather  too  ex- 
citing, and  an  edict  has  gone  forth  that  hereafter 
I  must  play  bear  with  them  before  supper,  and 
give  up  the  play  when  they  have  gone  to  bed. 
To-day  was  Archie's  birthday,  and  Quentin  re- 
sented Archie's  having  presents  while  he  (Quen- 
tin) had  none.  With  the  appalling  frankness  of 
three  years  old,  he  remarked  with  great  sincerity 
that  *'it  made  him  miserable,"  and  when  taken  to 
task  for  his  lack  of  altruistic  spirit  he  expressed 
an  obviously  perfunctory  repentance  and  said: 
*'Well,  boys  must  lend  boys  things,  at  any  rate!" 

[29] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

incidents  of  home-coming 

Blessed  Ted:  ^^"*^^  ^^^'  ^"''  ^''''  ""'• 

I  enclose  some  Filipino  Revolutionary  postage 
stamps.  Maybe  some  of  the  boys  would  like  them. 
Have  you  made  up  your  mind  whether  you 
would  like  to  try  shooting  the  third  week  in 
August  or  the  last  week  in  July,  or  would  you 
rather  wait  until  you  come  back  when  I  can  find 
out  something  more  definite  from  Mr.  Post.? 

We  very  much  wished  for  you  while  we  were 
at  the  (Buffalo)  Exposition.  By  night  it  was 
especially  beautiful.  Alice  and  I  also  wished 
that  you  could  have  been  with  us  when  we  were 
out  riding  at  Geneseo.  Major  Wadsworth  put  me 
on  a  splendid  big  horse  called  Triton,  and  sister 
on  a  thoroughbred  mare.  They  would  jump  any- 
thing. It  was  sister's  first  experience,  but  she  did 
splendidly  and  rode  at  any  fence  at  which  I  would 
first  put  Triton.  I  did  not  try  anything  very 
high,  but  still  some  of  the  posts  and  rails  were 
about  four  feet  high,  and  it  was  enough  to  test 
sister's  seat.     Of  course,  all  we  had  to  do  was  to 

[30] 


A  WELCOME  HOME 


stick  on  as  the  horses  jumped  perfectly  and  en- 
joyed it  quite  as  much  as  we  did.  The  first  four  or 
five  fences  that  I  went  over  I  should  be  ashamed 
to  say  how  far  I  bounced  out  of  the  saddle,  but 
after  a  while  I  began  to  get  into  my  seat  again. 
It  has  been  a  good  many  years  since  I  have 
jumped  a  fence. 

Mother  stopped  off  at  Albany  while  sister  went 
on  to  Boston,  and  I  came  on  here  alone  Tuesday 
afternoon.  St.  Gaudens,  the  sculptor,  and  Dunne 
(Mr.  Dooley)  were  on  the  train  and  took  lunch 
with  us.  It  was  great  fun  meeting  them  and  I 
liked  them  both.  Kermit  met  me  in  high  feather, 
although  I  did  not  reach  the  house  until  ten 
o'clock,  and  he  sat  by  me  and  we  exchanged  anec- 
dotes while  I  took  my  supper.  Ethel  had  put  an 
alarm  clock  under  her  head  so  as  to  be  sure  and 
wake  up,  but  although  it  went  off  she  continued 
to  slumber  profoundly,  as  did  Quentin.  Archie 
waked  up  suflSciently  to  tell  me  that  he  had 
found  another  turtle  just  as  small  as  the  already 
existing  treasure  of  the  same  kind.  This  morn- 
ing Quentin  and  Black  Jack  have  neither  of  them 

[31] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

been  willing  to  leave  me  for  any  length  of  time. 
Black  Jack  simply  lies  curled  up  in  a  chair,  but 
as  Quentin  is  most  conversational,  he  has  added 
an  element  of  harassing  difficulty  to  my  effort  to 
answer  my  accumulated  correspondence. 

Archie  announced  that  he  had  seen  "the  Balti- 
more orioles  catching  fish!"  This  seemed  to 
warrant  investigation;  but  it  turned  out  he  meant 
barn  swallows  skimming  the  water. 

The  President  not  only  sent  "picture  letters" 
to  his  own  children,  but  an  especial  one  to  Miss 
Sarah  Schuyler  Butler,  daughter  of  Dr.  Nicholas 
Murray  Butler,  President  of  Columbia  University, 
who  had  written  to  him  a  little  note  of  congrat- 
ulation on  his  first  birthday  in  the  White  House. 

White  House,  Nov.  3d,  1901. 

Dear  little  Miss  Sarah, 

I  liked  your  birthday  note  very  much;  and  my 
children  say  I  should  draw  you  two  pictures  in 
return. 

We  have  a  large  blue  macaw — Quentin  calls 
[32] 


A  PICTURE  LETTER 


him  a  polly-parrot — who  Kves  in  the  greenhouse, 
and  is  very  friendly,  but  makes  queer  noises.  He 
eats  bread,  potatoes,  and  coffee  grains. 

The  children  have  a  very  cunning  pony.  He  is 
a  little  pet,  like  a  dog,  but  he  plays  tricks  on 
them  when  they  ride  him. 

/ 


f^ 


..<ly^^ 


He  bucked  Ethel  over  his  head  the  other  day. 

[33] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

Your  father  will  tell  you  that  these  are  pictures 
of  the  UNPOLISHED  STONE  PERIOD. 
Give  my  love  to  your  mother. 

Your  father's  friend, 

Theodore  Roosevelt. 

uncle  remus  and  white  house  pets 

{To  Joel  Chandler  Harris) 

White  House,  June  9,  1902. 

My  dear  Mr.  Harris: 

Your  letter  was  a  great  relief  to  Kermit,  who 
always  becomes  personally  interested  in  his  favor- 
ite author,  and  who  has  been  much  worried  by 
your  sickness.  He  would  be  more  than  delighted 
with  a  copy  of  "Daddy  Jake."  Alice  has  it  al- 
ready, but  Kermit  eagerly  wishes  it. 

Last  night  Mrs.  Roosevelt  and  I  were  sitting 
out  on  the  porch  at  the  back  of  the  White  House, 
and  were  talking  of  you  and  wishing  you  could 
be  sitting  there  with  us.  It  is  delightful  at  all 
times,  but  I  think  especially  so  after  dark.  The 
monument  stands  up  distinct  but  not  quite  earthly 
in  the  night,  and  at  this  season  the  air  is  sweet 
with  the  jasmine  and  honeysuckle. 

[34  1 


PETS  OF  THE   CHILDREN 


All  of  the  younger  children  are  at  present  ab- 
sorbed in  various  pets,  perhaps  the  foremost  of 
which  is  a  puppy  of  the  most  orthodox  puppy 
type.  Then  there  is  Jack,  the  terrier,  and  Sailor 
Boy,  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog;  and  Eli,  the  most 
gorgeous  macaw,  with  a  bill  that  I  think  could 
bite  through  boiler  plate,  who  crawls  all  over 
Ted,  and  whom  I  view  with  dark  suspicion;  and 
Jonathan,  the  piebald  rat,  of  most  friendly  and 
affectionate  nature,  who  also  crawls  all  over 
everybody;  and  the  flying  squirrel,  and  two  kan- 
garoo rats;  not  to  speak  of  Archie's  pony,  Algon- 
quin, who  is  the  most  absolute  pet  of  them  all. 

Mrs.  Roosevelt  and  I  have,  I  think,  read  all 
your  stories  to  the  children,  and  some  of  them 
over  and  over  again. 


THE  DOG   "gem** 
^  T-  White  House,  Oct.  13,  1902. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

I  am  delighted  at  all  the  accounts  I  receive  of 
how  you  are  doing  at  Groton.  You  seem  to  be 
enjoying  yourself  and  are  getting  on  well.  I  need 
not  tell  you  to  do  your  best  to  cultivate  ability 

[35] 


LETTERS  TO  fflS  CHILDREN 

for  concentrating  your  thought  on  whatever  work 
you  are  given  to  do — you  will  need  it  in  Latin 
especially.  Who  plays  opposite  you  at  end? 
Do  you  find  you  can  get  down  well  under  the  ball 
to  tackle  the  full-back?  How  are  you  tackling? 
Mother  is  going  to  present  Gem  to  Uncle  Will. 
She  told  him  she  did  not  think  he  was  a  good  dog 
for  the  city;  and  therefore  she  gives  him  to  Uncle 
Will  to  keep  in  the  city.  Uncle  Will's  emotion  at 
such  self-denying  generosity  almost  overcame 
him.  Gem  is  really  a  very  nice  small  bow-wow, 
but  Mother  found  that  in  this  case  possession  was 
less  attractive  than  pursuit.  When  she  takes  him 
out  walking  he  carries  her  along  as  if  she  was  a 
Roman  chariot.  She  thinks  that  Uncle  Will  or 
Eda  can  anchor  him.  Yesterday  she  and  Ethel 
held  him  and  got  burrs  out  of  his  hair.  It  was  a 
lively  time  for  all  three. 

PRESIDENTIAL  NURSE  FOR   GITINEA   PIGS 
{To  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps  Ward) 

White  House,  Oct.  20,  1902. 
At  this  moment,  my  small  daughter  being  out, 
I  am  acting  as  nurse  to  two  wee  guinea  pigs, 

[36] 


THANKSGIVING  PLEASURES 

which  she  feels  would  not  be  safe  save  in  the 
room  with  me — and  if  I  can  prevent  it  I  do  not 
intend  to  have  wanton  suffering  inflicted  on  any 
creature. 

THANKSGIVING    IN   THE    W'HITE    HOUSE 

AMiite  House,  Nov.  28,  1902. 

Darling  Kermit: 

Yesterday  was  Thanksgiving,  and  we  all  went 
out  riding,  looking  as  we  started  a  good  deal  like 
the  Cumberbach  family.  Archie  on  his  beloved 
pony,  and  Ethel  on  Yagenka  went  off  with  Mr. 
Proctor  to  the  hunt.  Mother  rode  Jocko  Root, 
Ted  a  first-class  cavalry  horse,  I  rode  Renown, 
and  with  us  went  Senator  Lodge,  Uncle  Douglas, 
Cousin  John  Elliott,  Mr.  Bob  Fergie,  and  General 
Wood.  We  had  a  three  hours'  scamper  which 
was  really  great  fun. 

Yesterday  I  met  Bozie  for  the  first  time  since 
he  came  to  Washington,  and  he  almost  wriggled 
himself  into  a  fit,  he  was  so  overjoyed  at  renewing 
acquaintance.  To  see  Jack  and  Tom  Quartz 
play  together  is  as  amusing  as  it  can  be.  We 
have  never  had  a  more  cunning  kitten  than  Tom 

[37  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

Quartz.  I  have  just  had  to  descend  with  severity 
upon  Quentin  because  he  put  the  unfortunate 
Tom  into  the  bathtub  and  then  turned  on  the 
water.     He  didn't  really  mean  harm. 

Last  evening,  besides  our  own  entire  family 
party,  all  the  Lodges,  and  their  connections,  came 
to  dinner.  We  dined  in  the  new  State  Dining- 
room  and  we  drank  the  health  of  you  and  all  the 
rest  of  both  families  that  were  absent.  After 
dinner  we  cleared  away  the  table  and  danced. 
Mother  looked  just  as  pretty  as  a  picture  and  I 
had  a  lovely  waltz  with  her.  Mrs.  Lodge  and  I 
danced  the  Virginia  Reel. 

A  WHITE  HOUSE  CHRISTIHAS 
{To  Master  James  A,  Garfieldy  Washington) 

White  House,  Dec.  26,  1902. 
JiMMIKINS: 

Among  all  the  presents  I  got  I  don't  think  there 
was  one  I  appreciated  more  than  yours;  for  I  was 
brought  up  to  admire  and  respect  your  grand- 
father, and  I  have  a  very  great  fondness  and 
esteem  for  your  father.     It  always  seems  to  me 

[38] 


CHRISTMAS  IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 

as  if  you  children  were  being  brought  up  the  way 
that  mine  are.  Yesterday  Archie  got  among  his 
presents  a  small  rifle  from  me  and  a  pair  of  riding- 
boots  from  his  mother.  He  won't  be  able  to  use 
the  rifle  until  next  summer,  but  he  has  gone  off 
very  happy  in  the  riding  boots  for  a  ride  on  the 
calico  pony  Algonquin,  the  one  you  rode  the 
other  day.  Yesterday  morning  at  a  quarter  of 
seven  all  the  children  were  up  and  dressed  and 
began  to  hammer  at  the  door  of  their  mother's 
and  my  room,  in  which  their  six  stockings,  all 
bulging  out  with  queer  angles  and  rotundities, 
were  hanging  from  the  fireplace.  So  their  mother 
and  I  got  up,  shut  the  window,  lit  the  fire,  taking 
down  the  stockings,  of  course,  put  on  our  wrap- 
pers and  prepared  to  admit  the  children.  But 
first  there  was  a  surprise  for  me,  also  for  their 
good  mother,  for  Archie  had  a  little  Christmas 
tree  of  his  own  which  he  had  rigged  up  with  the 
help  of  one  of  the  carpenters  in  a  big  closet;  and 
we  all  had  to  look  at  the  tree  and  each  of  us  got 
a  present  off  of  it.  There  was  also  one  present 
each  for  Jack  the  dog,  Tom  Quartz  the  kitten, 

[39] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  Algonquin  the  pony,  whom  Archie  would  no 
more  think  of  neglecting  than  I  would  neglect  his 
brothers  and  sisters.  Then  all  the  children  came 
into  our  bed  and  there  they  opened  their  stock- 
ings. Afterwards  we  got  dressed  and  took  break- 
fast, and  then  all  went  into  the  library,  where 
each  child  had  a  table  set  for  his  bigger  presents. 
Quentin  had  a  perfectly  delightful  electric  rail- 
road, which  had  been  rigged  up  for  him  by  one  of 
his  friends,  the  White  House  electrician,  who  has 
been  very  good  to  all  the  children.  Then  Ted 
and  I,  with  General  Wood  and  Mr.  Bob  Ferguson, 
who  was  a  lieutenant  in  my  regiment,  went  for 
a  three  hours'  ride;  and  all  of  us,  including  all  the 
children,  took  lunch  at  the  house  with  the  chil- 
dren's aunt,  Mrs.  Captain  Cowles — Archie  and 
Quentin  having  their  lunch  at  a  little  table  with 
their  cousin  Sheffield.  Late  in  the  afternoon  I 
played  at  single  stick  with  General  Wood  and  Mr. 
Ferguson.  I  am  going  to  get  your  father  to  come 
on  and  try  it  soon.  We  have  to  try  to  hit  as 
light  as  possible,  but  sometimes  we  hit  hard,  and 
to-day  I  have  a  bump  over  one  eye  and  a  swollen 

[40] 


TOiM  QUARTZ  THE  KITTEN 

wrist.  Then  all  our  family  and  kinsfolk  and 
Senator  and  Mrs.  Lodge's  family  and  kinsfolk 
had  our  Christmas  dinner  at  the  WTiite  House, 
and  afterwards  danced  in  the  East  Room,  closing 
up  with  the  Virginia  Reel. 

TOM   QUARTZ    AND   JACK 

-^  T^  White  House,  Jan.  6,  1903. 

Dear  Kermit: 

We  felt  very  melancholy  after  you  and  Ted 
left  and  the  house  seemed  empty  and  lonely. 
But  it  was  the  greatest  possible  comfort  to  feel 
that  you  both  really  have  enjoyed  school  and 
are  both  doing  well  there. 

Tom  Quartz  is  certainly  the  cunningest  kitten 
I  have  ever  seen.  He  is  always  playing  pranks 
on  Jack  and  I  get  very  nervous  lest  Jack  should 
grow  too  irritated.  The  other  evening  they  were 
both  in  the  library — Jack  sleeping  before  the  fire 
— Tom  Quartz  scampering  about,  an  exceedingly 
playful  little  wild  creature — which  is  about  what 
he  is.  He  would  race  across  the  floor,  then  jump 
upon  the  curtain  or  play  with  the  tassel.     Sud- 

[41] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

denly  he  spied  Jack  and  galloped  up  to  him. 
Jack,  looking  exceedingly  sullen  and  shame-faced, 
jumped  out  of  the  way  and  got  upon  the  sofa, 
where  Tom  Quartz  instantly  jumped  upon  him 
again.  Jack  suddenly  shifted  to  the  other  sofa, 
where  Tom  Quartz  again  went  after  him.  Then 
Jack  started  for  the  door,  while  Tom  made  a 
rapid  turn  under  the  sofa  and  around  the  table, 
and  just  as  Jack  reached  the  door  leaped  on  his 
hind-quarters.  Jack  bounded  forward  and  away 
and  the  two  went  tandem  out  of  the  room — Jack 
not  reappearing  at  all;  and  after  about  five  min- 
utes Tom  Quartz  stalked  solemnly  back. 

Another  evening  the  next  Speaker  of  the 
House,  Mr.  Cannon,  an  exceedingly  solemn,  el- 
derly gentleman  with  chin  whiskers,  who  certainly 
does  not  look  to  be  of  playful  nature,  came  to  call 
upon  me.  He  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,  and  we 
sat  talking  over  what  our  policies  for  the  session 
should  be  until  about  eleven  o'clock;  and  when 
he  went  away  I  accompanied  him  to  the  head  of 
the  stairs.  He  had  gone  about  half-way  down 
when  Tom  Quartz  strolled  by,  his  tail  erect  and 

[42] 


SPEAKER  CANNON  AND  TOM  QUARTZ 

very  fluffy.  He  spied  Mr.  Cannon  going  down 
the  stairs,  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was 
a  playmate  escaping,  and  raced  after  him,  sud- 
denly grasping  him  by  the  leg  the  way  he  does 
Archie  and  Quentin  when  they  play  hide  and  seek 
with  him;  then  loosening  his  hold  he  tore  down- 
stairs ahead  of  iNlr.  Cannon,  who  eyed  him  with 
iron  calm  and  not  one  particle  of  surprise. 

Ethel  has  reluctantly  gone  back  to  boarding- 
school.  It  is  just  after  lunch  and  Dulany  is  cut- 
ting my  hair  while  I  dictate  this  to  Mr.  Loeb.  I 
left  Mother  lying  on  the  sofa  and  reading  aloud 
to  Quentin,  who  as  usual  has  hung  himself  over 
the  back  of  the  sofa  in  what  I  should  personally 
regard  as  an  exceedingly  uncomfortable  attitude 
to  listen  to  literature.  Archie  we  shall  not  see 
until  this  evening,  when  he  will  suddenly  chal- 
lenge me  either  to  a  race  or  a  bear  play,  and  if 
neither  invitation  is  accepted  will  then  propose 
that  I  tell  a  pig  story  or  else  read  aloud  from  the 
Norse  folk  tales. 


[43 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


A  FAR  WESTERN   TRIP 

In  April,  1903,  President  Roosevelt  made  a  trip 
to  the  Pacific  Coast,  visiting  Yellowstone  Park 
and  the  Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona. 

TAME  WILD   CREATURES 

Yellowstone  Park,  Wyoming, 
^  T.  April  16,  1903. 

Darling  Ethel: 

I  wish  you  could  be  here  and  see  how  tame  all 
the  wild  creatures  are.  As  I  write  a  dozen  of 
deer  have  come  down  to  the  parade  grounds,  right 
in  front  of  the  house,  to  get  the  hay;  they  are  all 
looking  at  the  bugler,  who  has  begun  to  play  the 
"retreat." 

western  customs  and  scenery 

_  ^  Del  Monte,  Cal.,  May  10,  1903. 

Darling  Ethel: 

I  have  thought  it  very  good  of  you  to  write  me 
so  much.  Of  course  I  am  feeling  rather  fagged, 
and  the  next  four  days,  which  will  include  San 
Francisco,  will  be  tiresome;  but  I  am  very  well. 
This  is  a  beautiful  hotel  in  which  we  are  spending 
Sunday,  with  gardens  and  a  long  seventeen-mile 

[44  1 


IN  THE  GRAND   CANYON 


drive  beside  the  beach  and  the  rocks  and  among 
the  pines  and  cypresses.  I  went  on  horseback. 
My  horse  was  a  Httle  beauty,  spirited,  swift,  sure- 
footed and  enduring.  As  is  usually  the  case  here 
they  had  a  great  deal  of  silver  on  the  bridle  and 
headstall,  and  much  carving  on  the  saddle.  We 
had  some  splendid  gallops.  By  the  way,  tell 
mother  that  ever^^where  out  here,  from  the  Mis- 
sissippi to  the  Pacific,  I  have  seen  most  of  the 
girls  riding  astride,  and  most  of  the  grown-up 
women.  I  must  say  I  think  it  very  much  better 
for  the  horses'  backs.  I  think  by  the  time  that 
you  are  an  old  lady  the  side-saddle  will  almost 
have  vanished — I  am  sure  I  hope  so.  I  have 
forgotten  whether  you  like  the  side-saddle  or  not. 
It  was  very  interesting  going  through  New 
Mexico  and  seeing  the  strange  old  civilization  of 
the  desert,  and  next  day  the  Grand  Canyon  of 
Arizona,  wonderful  and  beautiful  beyond  descrip- 
tion. I  could  have  sat  and  looked  at  it  for  days. 
It  is  a  tremendous  chasm,  a  mile  deep  and  several 
miles  wide,  the  cliffs  carved  into  battlements, 
amphitheatres,  towers  and  pinnacles,  and  the 
coloring  wonderful,  red  and  yellow  and  gray  and 

[45] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

green.  Then  we  went  through  the  desert,  passed 
across  the  Sierras  and  came  into  this  semi-tropical 
countr^^  of  southern  California,  with  palms  and 
orange  groves  and  olive  orchards  and  immense 
quantities  of  flowers. 

TREASURES   FOR   THE   CHILDREN 

^  -r^  Del  Monte,  Cal.,  May  10,  1903. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

The  last  weeks'  travel  I  have  really  enjoyed. 
Last  Sunday  and  to-day  (Sunday)  and  also  on 
Wednesday  at  the  Grand  Canyon  I  had  long 
rides,  and  the  country  has  been  strange  and  beau- 
tiful. I  have  collected  a  variety  of  treasures, 
which  I  shall  have  to  try  to  divide  up  equally 
among  you  children.  One  treasure,  by  the  way, 
is  a  very  small  badger,  which  I  named  Josiah, 
and  he  is  now  called  Josh  for  short.  He  is  very 
cunning  and  I  hold  him  in  my  arms  and  pet  him. 
I  hope  he  will  grow  up  friendly — that  is  if  the 
poor  little  fellow  lives  to  grow  up  at  all.  Dulany 
is  taking  excellent  care  of  him,  and  we  feed  him 
on  milk  and  potatoes. 

[40] 


A  CALIFORNIA  RIDE 


I  have  enjoyed  meeting  an  old  classmate  of 
mine  at  Harvard.  He  was  heavyweight  boxing 
champion  when  I  was  in  college. 

I  was  much  interested  in  your  seeing  the  wild 
deer.  That  was  quite  remarkable.  To-day,  by 
the  way,  as  I  rode  along  the  beach  I  saw  seals, 
cormorants,  gulls  and  ducks,  all  astonishingly 
tame. 

MORE   TREASURES 

_  .  Del  Monte,  Cal.,  May  10,  1903. 

Blessed  Archie: 

I  think  it  was  very  cunning  for  you  and  Quentin 

to   write  me  that  letter  together.     I   wish   you 

could  have  been  with  me  to-day  on  Algonquin, 

for  we  had  a  perfectly  lovely  ride.     Dr.  Rixey 

and  I  were  on  two  very  handsome  horses,  with 

Mexican  saddles  and  bridles;  the  reins  of  very 

slender  leather  with  silver  rings.     The  road  led 

through  pine  and  cypress  forests  and  along  the 

beach.     The  surf  was  beating  on  the  rocks  in  one 

place  and  right  between  two  of  the  rocks  where 

I  really  did  not  see  how  anything  could  swim  a 

seal  appeared  and  stood  up  on  his  tail  half  out  of 

[47] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

the  foaming  water  and  flapped  his  flippers,  and 
was  as  much  at  home  as  anything  could  be. 
Beautiful  gulls  flew  close  to  us  all  around,  and 
cormorants  swam  along  the  breakers  or  walked 
along  the  beach. 

I  have  a  number  of  treasures  to  divide  among 
you  children  when  I  get  back.  One  of  the  trea- 
sures is  Bill  the  Lizard.  He  is  a  little  live  lizard, 
called  a  horned  frog,  very  cunning,  who  lives  in  a 
small  box.  The  little  badger,  Josh,  is  very  well 
and  eats  milk  and  potatoes.  We  took  him  out 
and  gave  him  a  run  in  the  sand  to-day.  So  far 
he  seems  as  friendly  as  possible.  When  he  feels 
hungry  he  squeals  and  the  colored  porters  insist 
that  he  says  "Du-la-ny,  Du-la-ny,"  because 
Dulany  is  very  good  to  him  and  takes  care  of 
him. 

A  HOMESICK  PRESIDENT 

Del  Monte,  Cal.,  May  10,  1903. 

Dearest  Quenty-Quee: 

I  loved  your  letter.  I  am  very  homesick  for 
mother  and  for  you  children;  but  I  have  enjoyed 
this  week's  travel.     I  have  been  among  the  orange 

[48] 


JOSIAH  THE  BADGER 


groves,  where  the  trees  have  oranges  growing 
thick  upon  them,  and  there  are  more  flowers  than 
you  have  ever  seen.  I  have  a  gold  top  which  I 
shall  give  you  if  mother  thinks  you  can  take  care 
of  it.  Perhaps  I  shall  give  you  a  silver  bell  in- 
stead. Whenever  I  see  a  little  boy  being  brought 
up  by  his  father  or  mother  to  look  at  the  proces- 
sion as  we  pass  by,  I  think  of  you  and  Archie  and 
feel  very  homesick.  Sometimes  little  boys  ride  in 
the  procession  on  their  ponies,  just  like  Archie  on 
Algonquin. 

JOSIAH 'S   PASSIONATE   DAY 

Writing  Senator  Lodge  on  June  6,  1903,  de- 
scribing his  return  to  the  White  House  from  his 
western  trip,  the  President  said: 

"Josiah,  the  young  badger,  is  hailed  with  the 
wildest  enthusiasm  by  the  children,  and  has 
passed  an  affectionate  but  passionate  day  with  us. 
Fortunately  his  temper  seems  proof." 


[49] 


LETTERS  TO  fflS  CHILDREN 


LOVES  AND   SPORTS   OF   THE   CHILDREN 
{To  Miss  Emily  T,  Caroiv) 

Oyster  Bay,  Aug.  6,  1903. 
To-day  is  Edith's  birthday,  and  the  children 
have  been  too  cunning  in  celebrating  it.  Ethel 
had  hemstitched  a  little  handkerchief  herself,  and 
she  had  taken  her  gift  and  the  gifts  of  all  the 
other  children  into  her  room  and  neatly  wrapped 
them  up  in  white  paper  and  tied  with  ribbons. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  taken  down-stairs 
and  put  at  her  plate  at  breakfast  time.  Then  at 
lunch  in  marched  Kermit  and  Ethel  with  a  cake, 
burning  forty-two  candles,  and  each  candle  with 
a  piece  of  paper  tied  to  it  purporting  to  show  the 
animal  or  inanimate  object  from  which  the  can- 
dle came.  All  the  dogs  and  horses — Renown, 
Bleistein,  Yagenlva,  Algonquin,  Sailor  Boy,  Brier, 
Hector,  etc.,  as  well  as  Tom  Quartz,  the  cat, 
the  extraordinarily  named  hens — such  as  Baron 
Speckle  and  Fierce,  and  finally  even  the  boats 
and  that  pomegranate  which  Edith  gave  Kermit 
and  which   has   always   been   known   as   Santi- 

[50] 


A  WORSHIPPED   MOTHER 


ago,  had  each  his  or  her  or  its  tag  on  a  special 
candle. 

Edith  is  very  well  this  summer  and  looks  so 
young  and  pretty.  She  rides  with  us  a  great  deal 
and  loves  Yagenka  as  much  as  ever.  We  also  go 
out  rowing  together,  taking  our  lunch  and  a  book 
or  two  with  us.  The  children  fairly  worship  her, 
as  they  ought  to,  for  a  more  devoted  mother 
never  was  known.  The  children  themselves  are 
as  cunning  and  good  as  possible.  Ted  is  nearly 
as  tall  as  I  am  and  as  tough  and  wiry  as  you  can 
imagine.  He  is  a  really  good  rider  and  can  hold 
his  own  in  walking,  running,  swimming,  shooting, 
wrestling,  and  boxing.  Kermit  is  as  cunning  as 
ever  and  has  developed  greatly.  He  and  his  in- 
separable Philip  started  out  for  a  night's  camping 
in  their  best  the  other  day.  A  driving  storm 
came  up  and  they  had  to  put  back,  really  showing 
both  pluck,  skill  and  judgment.  They  reached 
home,  after  having  been  out  twelve  hours,  at 
nine  in  the  evening.  Archie  continues  devoted  to 
Algonquin  and  to  Nicholas.  Ted's  playmates  are 
George  and  Jack,  Aleck  Russell,  who  is  in  Prince- 

[51] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


ton,  and  Ensign  Hamner  of  the  Sylph,  They 
wrestle,  shoot,  swim,  play  tennis,  and  go  off  on 
long  expeditions  in  the  boats.  Quenty-quee  has 
cast  off  the  trammels  of  the  nursery  and  become 
a  most  active  and  fearless  though  very  good- 
tempered  little  boy.  Really  the  children  do  have 
an  ideal  time  out  here,  and  it  is  an  ideal  place 
for  them.  The  three  sets  of  cousins  are  always 
together.  I  am  rather  disconcerted  by  the  fact 
that  they  persist  in  regarding  me  as  a  playmate. 
This  afternoon,  for  instance,  was  rainy,  and  all 
of  them  from  George,  Ted,  Lorraine  and  Ethel 
down  to  Archibald,  Nicholas  and  Quentin,  with 
the  addition  of  Aleck  Russell  and  Ensign  Ham- 
ner, came  to  get  me  to  play  with  them  in  the 
old  barn.  They  plead  so  hard  that  I  finally 
gave  in,  but  upon  my  word,  I  hardly  knew  whether 
it  was  quite  right  for  the  President  to  be  engaged 
in  such  wild  romping  as  the  next  two  hours  saw. 
The  barn  is  filled  with  hay,  and  of  course  meets 
every  requirement  for  the  most  active  species  of 
hide-and-seek  and  the  like.  Quentin  enjoyed  the 
game  as  much  as  any  one,  and  would  jump  down 

[52] 


A  NIGHT'S  CAMPING 


from  one  hay  level  to  another  fifteen  feet  below 
with  complete  abandon. 

I  took  Kermit  and  Archie,  with  Philip,  Oliver 
and  Nicholas  out  for  a  night's  camping  in  the 
two  rowboats  last  week.  They  enjoyed  them- 
selves heartily,  as  usual,  each  sleeping  rolled  up 
in  his  blanket,  and  all  getting  up  at  an  unearthly 
hour.  Also,  as  usual,  they  displayed  a  touching 
and  firm  conviction  that  my  cooking  is  unequalled. 
It  was  of  a  simple  character,  consisting  of  frying 
beefsteak  first  and  then  potatoes  in  bacon  fat, 
over  the  camp  fire;  but  they  certainly  ate  in  a 
way  that  showed  their  words  were  not  uttered  in 
a  spirit  of  empty  compliment. 

A   PRESIDENT   AT   PLAY 
{To  Miss  Emily  T.  Carow) 

Oyster  Bay,  Aug.  16,  1903. 
Archie  and  Nick  continue  inseparable.  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  them  the  other  day,  after 
one  of  the  picnics,  walking  solemnly  up,  jointly 
carrying  a  basket,  and  each  with  a  captured  tur- 
tle in  his   disengaged  hand.     Archie  is  a  most 

[53] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

warm-hearted,  loving,  cunning  little  goose.  Quen- 
tin,  a  merry  soul,  has  now  become  entirely  one  of 
the  children,  and  joins  heartily  in  all  their  plays, 
including  the  romps  in  the  old  barn.  When  Ethel 
had  her  birthday,  the  one  entertainment  for  which 
she  stipulated  was  that  I  should  take  part  in  and 
supervise  a  romp  in  the  old  barn,  to  which  all  the 
Roosevelt  children.  Ensign  Hamner  of  the  Sylph, 
Bob  Ferguson  and  Aleck  Russell  were  to  come. 
Of  course  I  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse;  but  really 
it  seems,  to  put  it  mildly,  rather  odd  for  a  stout, 
elderly  President  to  be  bouncing  over  hay-ricks  in 
a  wild  effort  to  get  to  goal  before  an  active  midget 
of  a  competitor,  aged  nine  years.  However,  it 
was  really  great  fun. 

One  of  our  recent  picnics  was  an  innovation, 
due  to  Edith.  We  went  in  carriages  or  on  horse- 
back to  Jane's  Hill,  some  eight  miles  distant. 
The  view  was  lovely,  and  there  was  a  delightful 
old  farmhouse  half  a  mile  away,  where  we  left 
our  horses.  Speck  (German  Ambassador,  Count 
Speck  von  Sternberg)  rode  with  Edith  and  me, 
looking  more  like  Hans  Christian  i\ndersen's  little 

[54] 


AIVIATEUR  THEATRICALS 


tin  soldier  than  ever.  His  papers  as  Ambassador 
had  finally  come,  and  so  he  had  turned  up  at 
Oyster  Bay,  together  with  the  Acting  Secretary  of 
State,  to  present  them.  He  appeared  in  what 
was  really  a  very  striking  costume,  that  of  a  hus- 
sar. As  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  over,  I  told 
him  to  put  on  civilized  raiment,  which  he  did, 
and  he  spent  a  couple  of  days  with  me.  We 
chopped,  and  shot,  and  rode  together.  He  was 
delighted  with  Wyoming,  and,  as  always,  was 
extremely  nice  to  the  children. 

The  other  day  all  the  children  gave  amusing 
amateur  theatricals,  gotten  up  by  Lorraine  and 
Ted.  The  acting  was  upon  Laura  Roosevelt's 
tennis  court.  All  the  children  were  most  cunning, 
especially  Quentin  as  Cupid,  in  the  scantiest  of 
pink  muslin  tights  and  bodice.  Ted  and  Lor- 
raine, who  were  respectively  George  Washington 
and  Cleopatra,  really  carried  off  the  play.  At 
the  end  all  the  cast  joined  hands  in  a  song  and 
dance,  the  final  verse  being  devoted  especially  to 
me.  I  love  all  these  children  and  have  great  fun 
with  them,  and  I  am  touched  by  the  way  in  which 

[55  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

they  feel  that  I  am  their  special  friend,  champion, 
and  companion. 

To-day  all,  young  and  old,  from  the  three  houses 
went  with  us  to  Service  on  the  great  battleship 
Kearsarge — for  the  fleet  is  here  to  be  inspected  by 
me  to-morrow.  It  was  an  impressive  sight,  one 
which  I  think  the  children  will  not  soon  forget. 
Most  of  the  boys  afterward  went  to  lunch  with 
the  wretched  Secretary  Moody  on  the  Dolphin, 
Ted  had  the  younger  ones  very  much  on  his  mind, 
and  when  he  got  back  said  they  had  been  alto- 
gether too  much  like  a  March  Hare  tea-party,  as 
Archie,  Nicholas  and  Oliver  were  not  alive  to  the 
dignity  of  the  occasion. 

TO   TED   ON  A   HUNTING   TRIP 

Dear  Ted:  Oyster  Bay.  Aug.  25.  1903. 

We  have  thought  of  you  a  good  deal,  of  course. 
I  am  glad  you  have  my  rifle  with  you — you  scamp, 
does  it  still  have  "those  associations"  which  you 
alleged  as  the  reason  why  you  would  value  it  so 
much  when  in  the  near  future  I  became  unable 

[56] 


KOPtSEBACK  HIDES 


longer  to  use  it?  I  do  not  have  very  much  hope 
of  your  getting  a  great  deal  of  sport  on  this  trip, 
and  anything  you  do  get  in  the  way  of  furred  or 
feathered  game  and  fishing  I  shall  count  as  so 
much  extra  thrown  in;  but  I  feel  the  trip  will 
teach  you  a  lot  in  the  way  of  handling  yourself 
in  a  wild  country,  as  well  as  of  managing  horses 
and  camp  outfits — of  dealing  with  frontiersmen, 
etc.  It  will  therefore  fit  you  to  go  on  a  regular 
camping  trip  next  time. 

I  have  sternly  refused  to  allow  mother  to  ride 
Wyoming,  on  the  ground  that  I  would  not  have 
her  make  a  martyr  of  herself  in  the  shape  of  rid- 
ing a  horse  with  a  single-foot  gait,  which  she  so 
openly  detests.  Accordingly,  I  have  had  some 
long  and  delightful  rides  with  her,  she  on  Yagenka 
and  I  on  Bleistein,  while  Ethel  and  Kermit  have 
begun  to  ride  Wyoming.  Kermit  was  with  us 
this  morning  and  got  along  beautifully  till  we  gal- 
loped, whereupon  Wyoming  made  up  his  mind 
that  it  was  a  race,  and  Kermit,  for  a  moment  or 
two,  found  him  a  handful. 

On  Sunday,  after  we  came  back  from  church 
[57] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  bathed,  I  rowed  mother  out  to  the  end  of 
Lloyds  Neck,  near  your  favorite  camping  ground. 
There  we  took  lunch  and  spent  a  couple  of  hours 
with  our  books,  reading  a  little  and  looking  out 
over  the  beautiful  Sound  and  at  the  headlands 
and  white  beaches  of  the  coast.  We  rowed  back 
through  a  strange,  shimmering  sunset. 

I  have  played  a  little  tennis  since  you  left. 
Winty  Chandler  beat  me  two  sets,  but  I  beat  him 
one.  Alex.  Russell  beat  me  a  long  deuce  set, 
10  to  8.  To-day  the  smaller  children  held  their 
championship.  Nick  won  a  long  deuce  set  from 
Archie,  and  to  my  surprise  Oliver  and  Ethel  beat 
Kermit  and  Philip  in  two  straight  sets.  I  offi- 
ciated as  umpire  and  furnished  the  prizes,  which 
were  penknives. 

END   OF   SUMMER  AT   OYSTER   BAY 

Oyster  Bay,  Sept.  23,  1903. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

The  house  seems  very  empty  without  you  and 
Ted,  although  I  cannot  conscientiously  say  that 
it  is  quiet — ^Archie  and  Quentin  attend  to  that. 

[58] 


END  OF  SUMMER  AT  SAGAMORE 

Archie,  barefooted,  bareheaded,  and  with  his 
usual  faded  blue  overalls,  much  torn  and  patched, 
has  just  returned  from  a  morning  with  his  beloved 
Nick.  Quentin  has  passed  the  morning  in  sports 
and  pastimes  with  the  long-suffering  secret  ser- 
vice men.  Allan  has  been  associating  closely  with 
mother  and  me.  Yesterday  Ethel  went  off  riding 
with  Lorraine.  She  rode  Wyoming,  who  is  really 
turning  out  a  very  good  family  horse.  This  eve- 
ning I  expect  Grant  La  Farge  and  Owen  Wister, 
who  are  coming  to  spend  the  night.  Mother  is 
as  busy  as  possible  putting  up  the  house,  and 
Ethel  and  I  insist  that  she  now  eyes  us  both  with 
a  purely  professional  gaze,  and  secretly  wishes 
she  could  wrap  us  up  in  a  neatly  pinned  sheet 
with  camphor  balls  inside.  Good-bye,  blessed 
fellow ! 

"VALU ablest"     kind    OF    RABBITS 
{To  his  sister f  Mrs.  W.  S.  Cowles) 

White  House,  Oct.  2,  1903. 
Tell  Sheffield  that  Quentin  is  now  going  to  the 
public  school.     As  yet  he  has  preserved  an  atti- 

[59] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

tude  of  dignified  reserve  concerning  his  feelings  on 
the  subject.  He  has  just  been  presented  with 
two  white  rabbits,  which  he  brought  in  while  we 
were  at  lunch  yesterday,  explaining  that  they 
were  "the  valuablest  kind  with  pink  eyes." 

A   PREACHING   LETTER 
DearKeemit:  White  House,  Oct.  2.  1903. 

I  was  very  glad  to  get  your  letter.  Am  glad 
you  are  playing  football.  I  should  be  very  sorry 
to  see  either  you  or  Ted  devoting  most  of  your 
attention  to  athletics,  and  I  haven't  got  any 
special  ambition  to  see  you  shine  overmuch  in 
athletics  at  college,  at  least  (if  you  go  there),  be- 
cause I  think  it  tends  to  take  up  too  much  time; 
but  I  do  like  to  feel  that  you  are  manly  and  able 
to  hold  your  own  in  rough,  hardy  sports.  I  would 
rather  have  a  boy  of  mine  stand  high  in  his  studies 
than  high  in  athletics,  but  I  could  a  great  deal 
rather  have  him  show  true  manliness  of  character 
than  show  either  intellectual  or  physical  prowess; 
and  I  believe  you  and  Ted  both  bid  fair  to  develop 
just  such  character. 

[GOl 


A  PREACHING  LETTER 


There !  you  will  think  this  a  dreadfully  preach- 
ing letter !  I  suppose  I  have  a  natural  tendency 
to  preach  just  at  present  because  I  am  over- 
whelmed with  my  work.  I  enjoy  being  Presi- 
dent, and  I  lil^e  to  do  the  work  and  have  my 
hand  on  the  lever.  But  it  is  very  worrying  and 
puzzling,  and  I  have  to  make  up  my  mind  to 
accept  every  kind  of  attack  and  misrepresenta- 
tion. It  is  a  great  comfort  to  me  to  read  the  life 
and  letters  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  I  am  more  and 
more  impressed  every  day,  not  only  with  the 
man's  wonderful  power  and  sagacity,  but  with 
his  literally  endless  patience,  and  at  the  same  time 
his  unflinching  resolution. 

PROPER  PLACE  FOR  SPORTS 

^  ^  White  House,  Oct.  4,  1903. 

Dear  Ted: 

In  spite  of  the  "Hurry  !  Hurry  !"  on  the  outside 

of  your  envelope,  I  did  not  like  to  act  until  I  had 

consulted  Mother  and  thought  the  matter  over; 

and  to  be  frank  with  you,  old  fellow,  I  am  by  no 

means  sure  that  I  am  doing  right  now.     If  it  were 

[61] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

not  that  I  feel  you  will  be  so  bitterly  disappointed, 
I  would  strongly  advocate  your  acquiescing  in  the 
decision  to  leave  you  off  the  second  squad  this 
year.  I  am  proud  of  your  pluck,  and  I  greatly 
admire  football — though  it  was  not  a  game  I  was 
ever  able  to  play  myself,  my  qualities  resembling 
Kermit's  rather  than  yours.  But  the  very  things 
that  make  it  a  good  game  make  it  a  rough  game, 
and  there  is  always  the  chance  of  your  being  laid 
up.  Now,  I  should  not  in  the  least  object  to  your 
being  laid  up  for  a  season  if  you  were  striving  for 
something  worth  while,  to  get  on  the  Groton 
school  team,  for  instance,  or  on  your  class  team 
when  you  entered  Harvard — for  of  course  I  don't 
think  you  will  have  the  weight  to  entitle  you  to 
try  for  the  'varsity.  But  I  am  by  no  means  sure 
that  it  is  worth  your  while  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  laid  up  for  the  sake  of  playing  in  the  second 
squad  when  you  are  a  fourth  former,  instead  of 
when  you  are  a  fifth  former.  I  do  not  know  that 
the  risk  is  balanced  by  the  reward.  However,  I 
have  told  the  Rector  that  as  you  feel  so  strongly 
about  it,  I  think  that  the  chance  of  your  damag- 

[62] 


SPORTS  AND  STUDIES 


ing  yourself  in  body  is  outweighed  by  the  possi- 
biHty  of  bitterness  of  spirit  if  you  could  not  play. 
Understand  me,  I  should  think  mighty  little  of 
you  if  you  permitted  chagrin  to  make  you  bitter 
on  some  point  where  it  was  evidently  right  for 
you  to  suffer  the  chagrin.  But  in  this  case  I  am 
uncertain,  and  I  shall  give  you  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt.  If,  however,  the  coaches  at  any  time 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  you  ought  not  to  be 
in  the  second  squad,  why  you  must  come  off 
without  grumbling. 

I  am  delighted  to  have  you  play  football.  I 
believe  in  rough,  manly  sports.  But  I  do  not 
believe  in  them  if  they  degenerate  into  the  sole 
end  of  any  one's  existence.  I  don't  want  you  to 
sacrifice  standing  well  in  your  studies  to  any  over- 
athleticism;  and  I  need  not  tell  you  that  character 
counts  for  a  great  deal  more  than  either  intellect 
or  body  in  winning  success  in  life.  Athletic  pro- 
ficiency is  a  mighty  good  servant,  and  like  so 
many  other  good  servants,  a  mighty  bad  master. 
Did  you  ever  read  Pliny's  letter  to  Trajan,  in 
which  he  speaks  of  its  being  advisable  to  keep  th^ 

[63] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

Greeks  absorbed  in  athletics,  because  it  distracted 
their  minds  from  all  serious  pursuits,  including 
soldiering,  and  prevented  their  ever  being  dan- 
gerous to  the  Romans  ?  I  have  not  a  doubt  that 
the  British  officers  in  the  Boer  War  had  their 
efficiency  partly  reduced  because  they  had  sacri- 
ficed their  legitimate  duties  to  an  inordinate  and 
ridiculous  love  of  sports.  A  man  must  develop 
his  physical  prowess  up  to  a  certain  point;  but 
after  he  has  reached  that  point  there  are  other 
things  that  count  more.  In  my  regiment  nine- 
tenths  of  the  men  were  better  horsemen  than  I 
was,  and  probably  two-thirds  of  them  better 
shots  than  I  was,  while  on  the  average  they  were 
certainly  hardier  and  more  enduring.  Yet  after  I 
had  had  them  a  very  short  while  they  all  knew, 
and  I  knew  too,  that  nobody  else  could  command 
them  as  I  could.  I  am  glad  you  should  play 
football;  I  am  glad  that  you  should  box;  I  am 
glad  that  you  should  ride  and  shoot  and  walk  and 
row  as  well  as  you  do.  I  should  be  very  sorry  if 
you  did  not  do  these  things.  But  don't  ever  get 
into  the  frame  of  mind  which  regards  these  things 

[64] 


LINCOLN  mS  MODEL 


as  constituting  the  end  to  which  all  your  energies 
must  be  devoted,  or  even  the  major  portion  of 
your  energies. 

Yes,  I  am  going  to  speak  at  Groton  on  prize 
day.  I  felt  that  while  I  was  President,  and  while 
you  and  Kermit  were  at  Groton  I  wanted  to  come 
up  there  and  see  you,  and  the  Rector  wished  me 
to  speak,  and  so  I  am  very  glad  to  accept. 

By  the  way,  I  am  working  hard  to  get  Renown 
accustomed  to  automobiles.  ?Ie  is  such  a  handful 
now  when  he  meets  them  that  I  seriously  mind 
encountering  them  when  Mother  is  along.  Of 
course  I  do  not  care  if  I  am  alone,  or  with  another 
man,  but  I  am  uneasy  all  the  time  when  I  am  out 
with  Mother.  Yesterday  I  tried  Bleistein  over 
the  hurdles  at  Chevy  Chase.  The  first  one  was 
new,  high  and  stiff,  and  the  old  rascal  never  rose 
six  inches,  going  slap  through  it.  I  took  him  at 
it  again  and  he  went  over  all  right. 

I  am  very  busy  now,  facing  the  usual  endless 
worry  and  discouragement,  and  trying  to  keep 
steadily  in  mind  that  I  must  not  only  be  as  reso- 
lute as  Abraham  Lincoln  in  seeking  to  achieve 

[65] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

■■  ■ 

decent  ends,  but  as  patient,  as  uncomplaining, 
and  as  even-tempered  in  dealing,  not  only  with 
knaves,  but  with  the  well-meaning  foolish  people, 
educated  and  uneducated,  who  by  their  unwisdom 
give  the  knaves  their  chance. 


CONCERNING   GETTING   " SMASHED" 
Dear  Ted*  White  House,  Oct.  11,  1903. 

I  have  received  letters  from  the  Rector,  from 
Mr.  Woods,  and  from  Mr.  Billings.  They  all  say 
that  you  should  play  on  the  third  squad,  and  Mr. 
Woods  says  you  are  now  satisfied  to  do  so.  This 
was  my  first,  and  as  I  am  convinced,  my  real 
judgment  in  the  case.  If  you  get  mashed  up 
now  in  a  serious  way  it  may  prevent  your  playing 
later.  As  I  think  I  wrote  you,  I  do  not  in  the 
least  object  to  your  getting  smashed  if  it  is  for  an 
object  that  is  worth  while,  such  as  playing  on  the 
Groton  team  or  playing  on  your  class  team  when 
you  get  to  Harvard.  But  I  think  it  a  little  silly  to 
run  any  imminent  risk  of  a  serious  smash  simply 
to  play  on  the  second  squad  instead  of  the  third. 

[66  1 


CONCERNING  BROKEN  LIMBS 

I  am  judging  for  you  as  I  would  fo;*  myself. 
When  I  was  young  and  rode  across  country  I  was 
light  and  tough,  and  if  I  did,  as  actually  hap- 
pened, break  an  arm  or  a  rib  no  damage  ensued 
and  no  scandal  was  caused.  Now  I  am  stiff  and 
heavy,  and  any  accident  to  me  would  cause  im- 
mense talk,  and  I  do  not  take  the  chance;  simply 
because  it  is  not  worth  while.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  I  should  now  go  to  war  and  have  a  bri- 
gade as  I  had  my  regiment  before  Santiago,  I 
should  take  any  chance  that  was  necessary;  be- 
cause it  would  be  worth  while.  In  other  words, 
I  want  to  make  the  risk  to  a  certain  accident 
commensurate  with  the  object  gained. 

THE  ART   OF   UNCLE   REMUS 

{To  Joel  Chandler  Harris) 

-^  ^^  White  House,  Oct.  12,  1901. 

My  bear  IL\rris: 

It  is  worth  while  being  President  when  one's 
small  daughter  receives  that  kind  of  an  auto- 
graph gift.  When  I  was  younger  than  she  is,  my 
Aunt  Annie  Bulloch,  of  Georgia,  used  to  tell  me 

[67  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

some  of  the  brer  rabbit  stories,  especially  brer 
rabbit  and  the  tar  baby.  But  fond  though  I  am 
of  the  brer  rabbit  stories  I  think  I  am  even  fonder 
of  your  other  writings.  I  doubt  if  there  is  a  more 
genuinely  pathetic  tale  in  all  our  literature  than 
"Free  Joe."  Moreover  I  have  felt  that  all  that 
you  write  serves  to  bring  our  people  closer  to- 
gether. I  know,  of  course,  the  ordinary  talk  is 
that  an  artist  should  be  judged  purely  by  his  art; 
but  I  am  rather  a  Philistine  and  like  to  feel  that 
the  art  serves  a  good  purpose.  Your  art  is  not 
only  an  art  addition  to  our  sum  of  national 
achievement,  but  it  has  also  always  been  an  addi- 
tion to  the  forces  that  tell  for  decency,  and  above 
all  for  the  blotting  out  of  sectional  antagonism. 

A   RIDE   AND   A   PILLOW   FIGHT 

^  ^^  White  House,  Oct.  19,  1903. 

Dear  ICermit: 

I  was  much  pleased  at  your  being  made  cap- 
tain of  your  eleven.  I  would  rather  have  you 
captain  of  the  third  eleven  than  playing  on  the 
second. 

Yesterday  afternoon  Ethel  on  Wyoming,  Mother 
[68] 


A  WHITE   HOUSE  PILLOW  FIGHT 

on  Yagenka  and  I  on  Renown  had  a  long  ride,  the 
only  incident  being  meeting  a  large  red  automo- 
bile, which  much  shook  Renown's  nerves,  although 
he  behaved  far  better  than  he  has  hitherto  been 
doing  about  automobiles.  In  fact,  he  behaved  so 
well  that  I  leaned  over  and  gave  him  a  lump  of 
sugar  when  he  had  passed  the  object  of  terror — 
the  old  boy  eagerly  turning  his  head  around  to  get 
it.  It  was  lovely  out  in  the  country,  with  the 
trees  at  their  very  best  of  the  fall  coloring.  There 
are  no  red  maples  here,  but  the  Virginia  creepers 
and  some  of  the  dogwoods  give  the  red,  and  the 
hickories,  tulip  trees  and  beeches  a  brilliant  yel- 
low, sometimes  almost  orange. 

When  we  got  home  Mother  went  up-stairs  first 
and  was  met  by  Archie  and  Quentin,  each  loaded 
with  pillows  and  whispering  not  to  let  me  know 
that  they  were  in  ambush;  then  as  I  marched  up 
to  the  top  they  assailed  me  with  shrieks  and 
chuckles  of  delight  and  then  the  pillow  fight  raged 
up  and  down  the  hall.  After  my  bath  I  read 
them  from  Uncle  Remus.  Usually  Mother  reads 
them,  but  now  and  then,  when  I  think  she  really 
must  have  a  holiday  from  it,  I  read  them  myself. 

[69] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


STUDY  AND   PLAY 
_^  ^      ^  White  House,  Oct.  24,  1903. 

I  am  really  greatly  pleased  at  your  standing  so 
high  in  your  form,  and  I  am  sure  that  this  year  it 
is  better  for  you  to  be  playing  where  you  are  in 
football.  I  suppose  next  year  you  will  go  back 
to  your  position  of  end,  as  you  would  hardly  be 
heavy  enough  for  playing  back,  or  to  play  behind 
the  centre,  against  teams  with  big  fellows.  I 
repeat  that  your  standing  in  the  class  gave  me 
real  pleasure.  I  have  sympathized  so  much  with 
your  delight  in  physical  prowess  and  have  been 
so  glad  at  the  success  you  have  had,  that  some- 
times I  have  been  afraid  I  have  failed  to  empha- 
size sufficiently  the  fact  that  of  course  one  must 
not  subordinate  study  and  work  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  such  prowess.  By  the  way,  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  I  am  falling  behind  physically.  The 
last  two  or  three  years  I  have  had  a  tendency  to 
rheumatism,  or  gout,  or  something  of  the  kind, 
which  makes  me  very  stiff. 

Renown  is  behaving  better  about  automobiles 
[70] 


HORSES  AND  DOGS 


and  the  like.  I  think  the  difference  is  largely  in 
the  way  I  handle  him.  He  is  a  very  good-natured 
and  gentle  horse,  but  timid  and  not  over-wise, 
and  when  in  a  panic  his  great  strength  makes  him 
well-nigh  uncontrollable.  Accordingly,  he  is  a 
bad  horse  to  try  to  force  by  anything.  If  possi- 
ble, it  is  much  better  to  give  him  a  little  time, 
and  bring  him  up  as  gently  as  may  be  to  the 
object  of  terror.  When  he  behaves  well  I  lean 
forward  and  give  him  a  lump  of  sugar,  and  now 
the  old  boy  eagerly  puts  around  his  head  when  I 
stretch  out  my  hand.  Bleistein  I  have  ridden 
very  little,  because  I  think  one  of  his  forelegs  is 
shaky,  and  I  want  to  spare  him  all  I  can.  Mother 
and  I  have  had  the  most  lovely  rides  imaginable. 


QUENTIN  S   FIRST   FALL 

Dear  Kermit:  '''^'^^'  ^o^se,  Oct.  24,  1903. 

Yesterday  I  felt  rather  seedy,  having  a  touch  of 
Cuban  fever,  my  only  unpleasant  reminiscence  of 
the  Santiago  campaign.  Accordingly,  I  spent  the 
afternoon  in  the  house  lying  on  the  sofa,  with  a 

[711 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

bright  fire  burning  and  Mother  in  the  rocking- 
chair,  with  her  knitting,  beside  me.  I  felt  so  glad 
that  I  was  not  out  somewhere  in  the  wilderness, 
campaigning  or  hunting,  where  I  would  have  to 
walk  or  ride  all  day  in  the  rain  and  then  lie  out 
under  a  bush  at  night ! 

When  Allan  will  come  from  the  trainer's  I  do 
not  know.  Rather  to  my  surprise,  Ronald  has 
won  golden  opinions  and  really  is  a  very  nice  dog. 
Pinckney  loves  him,  and  he  sits  up  in  the  express 
wagon  just  as  if  it  was  what  he  had  been  born  to. 

Quentin  is  learning  to  ride  the  pony.  He  had 
one  tumble,  which,  he  remarked  philosophically, 
did  not  hurt  him  any  more  than  when  I  whacked 
him  with  a  sofa  cushion  in  one  of  our  pillow 
fights.  I  think  he  will  very  soon  be  able  to  man- 
age the  pony  by  himself. 

Mother  has  just  taken  the  three  children  to 
spend  the  afternoon  at  Dr.  Rixey's  farm.  I  am 
hard  at  work  on  my  message  to  Congress,  and 
accordingly  shall  not  try  to  go  out  or  see  any  one 
either  this  afternoon  or  this  evening.  All  of  this 
work  is  terribly  puzzling  at  times,  but  I  peg  away 

[72] 


LOVELY  SAGAMORE  HILL 


at  it,  and  every  now  and  then,  when  the  dust 
clears  away  and  I  look  around,  I  feel  that  I  really 
have  accomplished  a  little,  at  any  rate. 

I  think  you  stood  well  in  your  form,  taking 
everything  into  account.  I  feel  you  deserve 
credit  for  being  captain  of  your  football  eleven, 
and  yet  standing  as  high  as  you  do  in  your  class. 

HOMESICK  FOR   SAGAMORE  HILL 
^  ^  White  House,  Nov.  4,  1903. 

Dear  Ted: 

Three  cheers  for  Groton  !     It  was  first-class. 

On  election  day  I  saw  the  house,  and  it  was  all 
so  lovely  that  I  felt  fairly  homesick  to  be  back  in 
it.  The  Japanese  maples  were  still  in  full  leaf 
and  were  turning  the  most  beautiful  shades  of 
scarlet  imaginable.  The  old  barn,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  seems  to  be  giving  away  at  one  end. 

Renown  now  behaves  very  well  about  auto- 
mobiles, and  indeed  about  everything.  He  is, 
however,  a  little  touched  in  the  wind.  Bleistein, 
in  spite  of  being  a  little  shaky  in  one  foreleg,  is  in 
splendid  spirits  and  eager  for  any  amount  of  go. 

[73] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

When  you  get  on  here  for  the  Christmas  holidays 
you  will  have  to  try  them  both,  for  if  there  is  any 
fox  hunting  I  am  by  no  means  sure  you  will  find 
it  better  to  take  Bleistein  than  Renown. 

Sister  is  very  handsome  and  good,  having  had 
a  delightful  time. 

That  was  a  funny  trick  which  the  Indians  played 
against  Harvard.  Harvard  did  well  to  play  such 
a  successful  uphill  game  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
second  half  as  to  enable  them  to  win  out;  but  I 
do  not  see  how  she  stands  a  chance  of  success 
against  Yale  this  year. 

JOY   OVER  A   FOOTBALL   VICTORY 

^  T^  White  House,  Nov.  4,  1903. 

DKA.R  Kermit: 

To-night  while  I  was  preparing  to  dictate  a 

message  to  Congress  concerning  the  boiling  caldron 

on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  which  has  now  begun 

to  bubble  over,  up  came  one  of  the  ushers  with  a 

telegram  from  you  and  Ted  about  the  football 

match.     Instantly  I  bolted  into  the  next  room  to 

read  it  aloud  to  mother  and  sister,  and  we  all 

[74] 


READING  TO  THE  CHILDREN 

cheered  in  unison  when  we  came  to  the  Rah  !  Rah ! 
Rah !  part  of  it.  It  was  a  great  score.  I  wish  I 
could  have  seen  the  game. 


VICE-MOTHER   OF   THE   CHILDREN 

Dear  Kermit:  "^^^'^  ^^^^^^  N^^'  ^^'  ^^^^- 

Didn't  I  tell  you  about  Hector,  Brier  and  Sailor 
Boy  (dogs)  when  I  saw  them  on  election  day.^ 
They  were  in  excellent  health,  lying  around  the 
door  of  Seaman's  house,  which  they  had  evidently 
adopted  as  their  own.  Sailor  Boy  and  Brier  were 
exceedingly  affectionate;  Hector  kindly,  but  un- 
interested. 

Mother  has  gone  off  for  nine  days,  and  as  usual 
I  am  acting  as  vice-mother.  Archie  and  Quentin 
are  really  too  cunning  for  anything.  Each  night 
I  spend  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  reading 
to  them.  I  first  of  all  read  some  book  like  Algon- 
quin Indian  Tales,  or  the  poetry  of  Scott  or  Ma- 
caulay.  Once  I  read  them  Jim  Bludsoe,  which 
perfectly  enthralled  them  and  made  Quentin  ask 
me  at  least  a  hundred  questions,  including  one  as 

[75] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

to  whether  the  colored  boy  did  not  find  sitting  on 
the  safety  valve  hot.  I  have  also  been  reading 
them  each  evening  from  the  Bible.  It  has  been 
the  story  of  Saul,  David  and  Jonathan.  They 
have  been  so  interested  that  several  times  I  have 
had  to  read  them  more  than  one  chapter.  Then 
each  says  his  prayers  and  repeats  the  hymn  he  is 
learning,  Quentin  usually  jigging  solemnly  up  and 
down  while  he  repeats  it.  Each  finally  got  one 
hymn  perfect,  whereupon  in  accordance  with  pre- 
vious instructions  from  mother  I  presented  each 
of  them  with  a  five-cent  piece.  Yesterday  (Sat- 
urday) I  took  both  of  them  and  Ethel,  together 
with  the  three  elder  Garfield  boys,  for  a  long 
scramble  down  Rock  Creek.  We  really  had  great 
fun. 

quentin's  sixth  birthday 

^  ^^  White  House,  Nov.  19,  1903. 

Dear  Kermit: 

I  was  much  pleased  at  your  being  chosea  cap- 
tain of  the  Seventh.  I  had  not  expected  it.  I 
rather  suspect  that  you  will  be  behind  in  your 
studies  this  month.     If  so,  try  to  make  up  next 

[76  1 


QUENTIN'S  BIRTHDAY 


month,  and  keep  above  the  middle  of  the  class  if 
you  can.  I  am  interested  in  what  you  tell  me 
about  the  Sir  Galahads,  and  I  shall  want  to  talk 
to  you  about  them  when  you  come  on. 

Mother  is  back  with  Aunt  Emily,  who  looks 
very  \^ell.  It  is  so  nice  to  have  her.  As  for 
Mother,  of  course  she  makes  the  house  feel  like  a 
home  again,  instead  of  like  a  temporary  dwelling. 

Leo  is  as  cunning  as  ever.  Pinckney  went  to 
see  Allan  yesterday  and  said  he  found  him  "as 
busy  as  a  bee  in  a  tar  barrel,"  and  evidently  own- 
ing all  the  trainer's  house.  He  is  not  yet  quite 
fit  to  come  back  here. 

To-day  is  Quentin's  birthday.  He  has  a  cold, 
so  he  had  his  birthday  cake,  with  the  six  candles, 
and  his  birthday  ice-cream,  in  the  nursery,  with 
Ethel,  Archie,  Mother,  Aunt  Emily,  myself,  Mame 
and  Georgette  as  admiring  guests  and  onlookers. 

A  president's  poor  protection 

Dear  Kermit:  "^^^'^  H^^^^'  ^^^^-  ^^'  ^^^^' 

It  was  very  sad  at  Uncle  Gracie's  funeral;  and 
yet  lovely,  too,  in  a  way,  for  not  only  all  his  old 

[77] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

friends  had  turned  out,  but  all  of  the  people  con- 
nected with  the  institutions  for  which  he  had 
worked  during  so  many  years  also  came.  There 
were  a  good  many  of  the  older  boys  and  employ- 
ees from  the  Newsboys'  Lodging  House  and  the 
Orthopaedic  Dispensary,  etc.  Uncle  Jimmy  pos- 
sessed a  singularly  loving  and  affectionate  nature, 
and  I  never  knew  any  one  who  in  doing  good  was 
more  careful  to  do  it  unostentatiously.  I  had  no 
idea  how  much  he  had  done.  Mother  with  her 
usual  thoughtfulness  had  kept  him  steadily  in 
mind  while  I  have  been  Governor  and  President; 
and  I  now  find  that  he  appreciated  her  so  much, 
her  constant  remembrances  in  having  him  on  to 
visit  us  on  different  occasions.  It  was  a  lesson 
to  me,  for  I  should  probably  never  have  thought 
of  it  myself;  and  of  course  when  one  does  not  do 
what  one  ought  to,  the  excuse  that  one  erred  from 
thoughtlessness  instead  of  wrong  purpose  is  of 
small  avail. 

The  police  arrangements  at  the  church  were 
exasperating  to  a  degree.  There  were  fully  five 
hundred  policemen  in  the  streets  round  about,  just 

f78] 


POLICE  INEFFICIENCY 


as  if  there  was  danger  of  an  attack  by  a  ferocious 
mob;  and  yet  though  they  had  throngs  of  police- 
men inside,  too,  an  elderly  and  harmless  crank 
actually  got  inside  with  them  to  present  me  some 
foolish  memorial  about  curing  the  German  Em- 
peror from  cancer.  Inasmuch  as  what  we  needed 
was,  not  protection  against  a  mob,  but  a  sharp 
lookout  for  cranks,  the  arrangement  ought  by 
rights  to  have  been  for  fifty  policemen  outside 
and  two  or  three  good  detectives  inside.  I  felt 
like  a  fool  with  all  the  policemen  in  solemn  and 
purposeless  lines  around  about;  and  then  I  felt 
half  exasperated  and  half  amused  when  I  found 
that  they  were  utterly  helpless  to  prevent  a  crank 
from  getting  inside  after  all. 

P.  S. — I  enclose  two  original  poems  by  Nick 
and  Archie.  They  refer  to  a  bit  of  unhappy  ad- 
vice I  gave  them,  because  of  which  I  fell  into 
richly  merited  disgrace  with  Mother.  Nick  has 
been  spending  three  days  or  so  with  Archie,  and  I 
suggested  that  they  should  explore  the  White 
House  in  the  mirk  of  midnight.     They  did,  in 

[79] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

white  sheets,   and,   like  little  jacks,  barefooted. 
Send  me  back  the  poems. 

ted's  sprained  ankle 
_  ^  White  House,  Nov.  28,  1903. 

Dear  Ted: 

If  I  were  you  I  should  certainly  get  the  best 
ankle  support  possible.  You  do  not  want  to  find 
next  fall  that  Webb  beats  you  for  end  because 
your  ankle  gives  out  and  his  does  not.  If  I  were 
in  your  place,  if  it  were  necessary,  I  should  put 
the  ankle  in  plaster  for  the  next  three  weeks,  or 
for  as  long  as  the  doctor  thinks  it  needful,  rather 
than  run  any  risk  of  this.  At  any  rate,  I  would 
consult  him  and  wear  whatever  he  thinks  is  the 
right  thing. 

I  wonder  if  you  are  old  enough  yet  to  care  for 
a  good  history  of  the  American  Revolution.  If 
so,  I  think  I  shall  give  you  mine  by  Sir  George 
Trevelyan;  although  it  is  by  an  Englishman,  I 
really  think  it  on  the  whole  the  best  account  I 
have  read.  If  I  give  it  to  you  you  must  be  very 
careful  of  it,  because  he  sent  it  to  me  himself. 

[80] 


A  DELIGHTFUL  CHRISTMAS 

P.  S. — The  Bond  parrot  for  mother  has  turned 
up;  it  is  a  most  meritorious  parrot,  very  friendly, 
and  quite  a  remarkable  talker. 

THE   SUPREME  CHRISTIVIAS   JOY 
{To  his  sister,  Mrs.  Douglas  Robinson) 

White  House,  Dec,  26,  1903. 

We  had  a  delightful  Christmas  yesterday — just 
such  a  Christmas  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  we 
used  to  have  under  Father's  and  Mother's  super- 
vision in  20th  street  and  57th  street.  At  seven 
all  the  children  came  in  to  open  the  big,  bulgy 
stockings  in  our  bed;  Kermit's  terrier,  Allan,  a 
most  friendly  little  dog,  adding  to  the  children's 
delight  by  occupying  the  middle  of  the  bed. 
From  Alice  to  Quentin,  each  child  was  absorbed 
in  his  or  her  stocking,  and  Edith  certainly  man- 
aged to  get  the  most  wonderful  stocking  toys. 
Bob  was  in  looking  on,  and  Aunt  Emily,  of  course. 
Then,  after  breakfast,  we  all  formed  up  and  went 
into  the  library,  where  bigger  toys  were  on  sep- 
arate tables  for  the  children.     I  wonder  whether 

[81] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

there  ever  can  come  in  life  a  thrill  of  greater  exalta- 
tion and  rapture  than  that  which  comes  to  one 
between  the  ages  of  say  six  and  fourteen,  when 
the  library  door  is  thrown  open  and  you  walk  in 
to  see  all  the  gifts,  like  a  materialized  fairy  land, 
arrayed  on  your  special  table  ? 


A   DAY   WITH   A   JUGGLER 

Dear  Kebmit:  "^^^^  H°"^^'  •^''°-  ^^'  i««*- 

Thursday  and  Friday  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
snow  on  the  ground,  and  the  weather  was  cold, 
so  that  Mother  and  I  had  two  delightful  rides  up 
Rock  Creek.  The  horses  were  clipped  and  fresh, 
and  we  were  able  to  let  them  go  along  at  a  gallop, 
while  the  country  was  wonderfully  beautiful. 

To-day,  after  lunch.  Mother  took  Ethel,  Archie 
and  Quentin,  each  with  a  friend,  to  see  some  most 
wonderful  juggling  and  sleight  of  hand  tricks  by 
Kellar.  I  went  along  and  was  as  much  interested 
as  any  of  the  children,  though  I  had  to  come  back 
to  my  work  in  the  office  before  it  was  half  through. 
At  one  period  Ethel  gave  up  her  ring  for  one  of 

[82] 


A  LONG  BUSINESS  LETTER 

the  tricks.  It  was  mixed  up  with  the  rings  of  five 
other  little  girls,  and  then  all  six  rings  were  appar- 
ently pounded  up  and  put  into  a  pistol  and  shot 
into  a  collection  of  boxes,  where  five  of  them  were 
subsequently  found,  each  tied  around  a  rose. 
Ethel's,  however,  had  disappeared,  and  he  made 
believe  that  it  had  vanished,  but  at  the  end  of  the 
next  trick  a  remarkable  bottle,  out  of  which  many 
different  liquids  had  been  poured,  suddenly  de- 
veloped a  delightful  white  guinea  pig,  squirming 
and  kicking  and  looking  exactly  like  Admiral 
Dewey,  with  around  its  neck  Ethel's  ring,  tied  by 
a  pink  ribbon.  Then  it  was  wrapped  up  in  a 
paper,  handed  to  Ethel;  and  when  Ethel  opened 
it,  behold,  there  was  no  guinea  pig,  but  a  bunch 
of  roses  with  a  ring. 

MERITS   OF   MILITARY   AND    CIVIL   LIFE 

^  ^  White  House,  Jan.  21,  1904. 

Dear  Ted: 

This  will  be  a  long  business  letter.     I  sent  to 

you  the  examination  papers  for  West  Point  and 

Annapolis.     I  have  thought  a  great  deal  over  the 

[83] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

matter,  and  discussed  it  at  great  length  with 
Mother.  I  feel  on  the  one  hand  that  I  ought  to 
give  you  my  best  advice,  and  yet  on  the  other 
hand  I  do  not  wish  to  seem  to  constrain  you 
against  your  wishes.  If  you  have  definitely  made 
up  your  mind  that  you  have  an  overmastering 
desire  to  be  in  the  Navy  or  the  Army,  and  that 
such  a  career  is  the  one  in  which  you  will  take  a 
really  heart-felt  interest — far  more  so  than  any 
other — and  that  your  greatest  chance  for  happi- 
ness and  usefulness  will  lie  in  doing  this  one  work 
to  v/hich  you  feel  yourself  especially  drawn — 
why,  under  such  circumstances,  I  have  but  little 
to  say.  But  I  am  not  satisfied  that  this  is  really 
your  feeling.  It  seemed  to  me  more  as  if  you  did 
not  feel  drawn  in  any  other  direction,  and  won- 
dered what  you  were  going  to  do  in  life  or  what 
kind  of  work  you  would  turn  your  hand  to,  and 
wondered  if  you  could  make  a  success  or  not;  and 
that  you  are  therefore  inclined  to  turn  to  the 
Navy  or  Army  chiefly  because  you  would  then 
have  a  definite  and  settled  career  in  life,  and 
could  hope  to  go  on  steadily  without  any  great 

[84] 


FAITH  IN  TED 


risk  of  failure.  Now,  if  such  is  your  thought,  I 
shall  quote  to  you  what  Captain  Mahan  said  of 
his  son  when  asked  why  he  did  not  send  him  to 
West  Point  or  Annapolis.  "I  have  too  much  con- 
fidence in  him  to  make  me  feel  that  it  is  desirable 
for  him  to  enter  either  branch  of  the  service." 

I  have  great  confidence  in  you.  I  believe  you 
have  the  ability  and,  above  all,  the  energy,  the 
perseverance,  and  the  common  sense,  to  win  out 
in  civil  life.  That  you  will  have  some  hard  times 
and  some  discouraging  times  I  have  no  question; 
but  this  is  merely  another  way  of  saying  that  you 
will  share  the  common  lot.  Though  you  will  have 
to  work  in  different  ways  from  those  in  which  I 
worked,  you  will  not  have  to  work  any  harder, 
nor  to  face  periods  of  more  discouragement.  I 
trust  in  your  ability,  and  especially  your  character, 
and  I  am  confident  you  will  win. 

In  the  Army  and  the  Navy  the  chance  for  a 
man  to  show  great  ability  and  rise  above  his  fel- 
lows does  not  occur  on  the  average  more  than 
once  in  a  generation.  When  I  was  down  at  San- 
tiago it  was  melancholy  for  me  to  see  how  fossil- 

[85] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

ized  and  lacking  in  ambition,  and  generally  use- 
less, were  most  of  the  men  of  my  age  and  over, 
who  had  served  their  lives  in  the  Army.  The 
Navy  for  the  last  few  years  has  been  better,  but 
for  twenty  years  after  the  Civil  War  there  was 
less  chance  in  the  Navy  than  in  the  Army  to 
practise,  and  do,  work  of  real  consequence.  I 
have  actually  known  lieutenants  in  both  the 
Army  and  the  Navy  who  were  grandfathers — ■ 
men  who  had  seen  their  children  married  before 
they  themselves  attained  the  grade  of  captain. 
Of  course  the  chance  may  come  at  any  time  when 
the  man  of  West  Point  or  Annapolis  who  will 
have  stayed  in  the  Army  or  Navy  finds  a  great 
war  on,  and  therefore  has  the  opportunity  to  rise 
high.  Under  such  circumstances,  I  think  that 
the  man  of  such  training  who  has  actually  left  the 
Army  or  the  Navy  has  even  more  chance  of  rising 
than  the  man  who  has  remained  in  it.  Moreover, 
often  a  man  can  do  as  I  did  in  the  Spanish  War, 
even  though  not  a  West  Pointer. 

This  last  point  raises  the  question  about  you 
going  to  West  Point  or  Annapolis  and  leaving  the 

[80] 


LIMITATIONS  OF  MILITARY  EDUCATION 

Army  or  Navy  after  you  have  served  the  regula- 
tion four  years  (I  think  that  is  the  number)  after 
graduation  from  the  academy.     Under  this  plan 
you   would   have   an   excellent   education   and   a 
grounding  in  discipline  and,  in  some  ways,  a  test- 
ing of  your  capacity  greater  than  I  think  you  can 
get  in  any  ordinary  college.     On  the  other  hand, 
except   for   the   profession    of   an    engineer,    you 
would  have  had  nothing  like  special  training,  and 
you  would  be  so  ordered  about,  and  arranged  for, 
that  you  would  have  less  independence  of  charac- 
ter than  you  could  gain  from  them.     You  would 
have  had  fewer  temptations;  but  you  would  have 
had  less  chance  to  develop  the  qualities  which 
overcome  temptations  and  show  that  a  man  has 
individual  initiative.     Supposing  you  entered  at 
seventeen,   with   the  intention   of  following   this 
course.     The  result  would  be  that  at  twenty-five 
you  would  leave  the  Army  or  Navy  without  hav- 
ing gone  through  any  law  school  or  any  special 
technical  school  of  any  kind,  and  would  start  your 
life   work   three   or   four   years   later   than   your 
schoolfellows  of  to-day,  who  go  to  work  immedi- 

[87] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

ately  after  leaving  college.  Of  course,  under  such 
circumstances,  you  might  study  law,  for  instance, 
during  the  four  years  after  graduation;  but  my 
own  feeling  is  that  a  man  does  good  work  chiefly 
when  he  is  in  something  which  he  intends  to  make 
his  permanent  work,  and  in  which  he  is  deeply 
interested.  Moreover,  there  will  always  be  the 
chance  that  the  number  of  officers  in  the  Army 
or  Navy  will  be  deficient,  and  that  you  would 
have  to  stay  in  the  service  instead  of  getting  out 
when  you  wished. 

I  want  you  to  think  over  all  these  matters  very 
seriously.  It  would  be  a  great  misfortune  for  you 
to  start  into  the  Army  or  Navy  as  a  career,  and 
find  that  you  had  mistaken  your  desires  and  had 
gone  in  without  really  weighing  the  matter. 

You  ought  not  to  enter  unless  you  feel  genuinely 
drawn  to  the  life  as  a  life-work.  If  so,  go  in;  but 
not  otherwise. 

Mr.  Loeb  told  me  to-day  that  at  17  he  had 
tried  for  the  army,  but  failed.  The  competitor 
who  beat  him  in  is  now  a  captain;  Mr.  Loeb  has 
passed  him  by,  although  meanwhile  a  war  has 

[88] 


FRIENDS  AND  ADVISERS 


been  fought.  Mr.  Loeb  says  he  wished  to  enter 
the  army  because  he  did  not  know  what  to  do, 
could  not  foresee  whether  he  would  succeed  or 
fail  in  life,  and  felt  the  army  would  give  him  "a 
living  and  a  career."  Now  if  this  is  at  bottom 
your  feeling  I  should  advise  you  not  to  go  in;  I 
should  say  yes  to  some  boys,  but  not  to  you;  I 
believe  in  you  too  much,  and  have  too  much  con- 
fidence in  you. 

ROOT  AND   TAFT 

^  _,  White  House,  Feb.  6,  1904. 

Dear  Ted: 

I  was  glad  to  hear  that  you  were  to  be  con- 
firmed. 

Secretary  Root  left  on  Monday  and  Governor 
Taft  took  his  place.  I  have  missed,  and  shall 
miss,  Root  dreadfully.  He  has  been  the  ablest, 
most  generous  and  most  disinterested  friend  and 
adviser  that  any  President  could  hope  to  have; 
and  immediately  after  leaving  he  rendered  me  a 
great  service  by  a  speech  at  the  Union  League 
Club,  in  which  he  said  in  most  effective  fashion 
the  very  things  I  should  have  liked  him  to  say; 

[89] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  his  words,  moreover,  carried  weight  as  the 
words  of  no  other  man  at  this  time  addressing 
such  an  audience  could  have  done.  Taft  is  a 
splendid  fellow  and  will  be  an  aid  and  comfort  in 
every  way.  But,  as  mother  says,  he  is  too  much 
like  me  to  be  able  to  give  me  as  good  advice  as 
Mr.  Root  was  able  to  do  because  of  the  very  dif- 
ferences of  character  between  us. 

If  after  fully  thinking  the  matter  over  you 
remain  firmly  convinced  that  you  want  to  go  into 
the  army,  well  and  good.  I  shall  be  rather  sorry 
for  your  decision,  because  I  have  great  confidence 
in  you  and  I  believe  that  in  civil  life  you  could 
probably  win  in  the  end  a  greater  prize  than  will 
be  open  to  you  if  you  go  into  the  army — though, 
of  course,  a  man  can  do  well  in  the  army.  I 
know  perfectly  well  that  you  will  have  hard  times 
in  civil  life.  Probably  most  young  fellows  when 
they  have  graduated  from  college,  or  from  their 
post-graduate  course,  if  they  take  any,  feel  pretty 
dismal  for  the  first  few  years.  In  ordinary  cases 
it  at  first  seems  as  if  their  efforts  were  not  leading 
anywhere,  as  if  the  pressure  around  the  foot  of 

[90  1 


BUFFALO  BILL'S  SPEECH 


the  ladder  was  too  great  to  permit  of  getting  up 
to  the  top.  But  I  have  faith  in  your  energy,  your 
perseverance,  your  ability,  and  your  power  to 
force  yourself  to  the  front  when  you  have  once 
found  out  and  taken  your  line.  However,  you 
and  I  and  mother  will  talk  the  whole  matter  over 
when  you  come  back  here  on  Easter. 

SENATOR   HANNa's   DEATH 
Tr^  _,  White  House,  Feb.  19,  1904. 

Dear  Ted: 

Poor  Hanna's  death  was  a  tragedy.  At  the 
end  he  wrote  me  a  note,  the  last  he  ever  wrote, 
which  showed  him  at  his  best,  and  which  I  much 
appreciate.  His  death  was  very  sad  for  his  family 
and  close  friends,  for  he  had  many  large  and  gen- 
erous traits,  and  had  made  a  great  success  in  life 
by  his  energy,  perseverance  and  burly  strength. 

Buffalo  Bill  was  at  lunch  the  other  day,  together 
with  John  Willis,  my  old  hunter.  Buffalo  Bill 
has  always  been  a  great  friend  of  mine.  I  remem- 
ber when  I  was  running  for  Vice-President  I 
struck  a  Kansas  town  just  when  the  Wild  West 

[91] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


show  was  there.  He  got  upon  the  rear  platform 
of  my  car  and  made  a  brief  speech  on  my  behalf, 
ending  with  the  statement  that  "a  cyclone  from 
the  West  had  come;  no  wonder  the  rats  hunted 
their  cellars ! " 

As  for  you,  I  think  the  West  Point  education 
is,  of  course,  good  for  any  man,  but  I  still  think 
that  you  have  too  much  in  you  for  me  to  be  glad 
to  see  you  go  into  the  Army,  where  in  time  of 
peace  progress  is  so  much  a  matter  of  routine. 

IRRITATING   REMARK  BY   QUENTIN 
<_^  T^  White  House,  Feb.  27,  1904. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Mother  went  off  for  three  days  to  New  York 
and  Mame  and  Quentin  took  instant  advantage  of 
her  absence  to  fall  sick.  Quentin's  sickness  was 
surely  due  to  a  riot  in  candy  and  ice-cream  with 
chocolate  sauce.  He  was  a  very  sad  bunny  next 
morning  and  spent  a  couple  of  days  in  bed. 
Ethel,  as  always,  was  as  good  as  gold  both  to  him 
and  to  Archie,   and  largely  relieved  me  of  my 

[92] 


QUENTIN'S  IRRITATING  REMARK 

duties  as  vice-mother.  I  got  up  each  morning  in 
time  to  breakfast  with  Ethel  and  Archie  before 
they  started  for  school,  and  I  read  a  certain 
amount  to  Quentin,  but  this  was  about  all.  I 
think  Archie  escaped  with  a  minimum  of  wash- 
ing for  the  three  days.  One  day  I  asked  him 
before  Quentin  how  often  he  washed  his  face, 
whereupon  Quentin  interpolated,  "very  seldom, 
I  fear,"  which  naturally  produced  from  Archie 
violent  recriminations  of  a  strongly  personal  type. 
Mother  came  back  yesterday,  having  thoroughly 
enjoyed  Parsifal.     All  the  horses  continue  sick. 

JAPANESE   WRESTLING 

^  T^  White  House,  March  5,  1904. 

Dear  Kerimit: 

I  am  wrestling  with  two  Japanese  wrestles 
three  times  a  week.  I  am  not  the  age  or  the 
build  one  would  think  to  be  whirled  lightly  over 
an  opponent's  head  and  batted  down  on  a  mat- 
tress without  damage.  But  they  are  so  skiKul 
that  I  have  not  been  hurt  at  all.     My  throat  is  a 

[93] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

little  sore,  because  once  when  one  of  them  had  a 
strangle  hold  I  also  got  hold  of  his  windpipe  and 
thought  I  could  perhaps  choke  him  off  before  he 
could  choke  me.     However,  he  got  ahead. 

T^  r^  White  House,  April  9,  1904. 

Dear  Ted: 

I  am  very  glad  I  have  been  doing  this  Japanese 
wrestling,  but  when  I  am  through  with  it  this 
time  I  am  not  at  all  sure  I  shall  ever  try  it  again 
while  I  am  so  busy  with  other  work  as  I  am  now. 
Often  by  the  time  I  get  to  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  I  will  be  feeling  like  a  stewed  owl, 
after  an  eight  hours'  grapple  with  Senators,  Con- 
gressmen, etc.;  then  I  find  the  wrestling  a  trifle 
too  vehement  for  mere  rest.  My  right  ankle  and 
my  left  wrist  and  one  thumb  and  both  great  toes 
are  swollen  sufficiently  to  more  or  less  impair  their 
usefulness,  and  I  am  well  mottled  with  bruises 
elsewhere.  Still  I  have  made  good  progress,  and 
since  you  left  they  have  taught  me  three  new 
throws  that  are  perfect  corkers. 

[94] 


WHITE  HOUSE  JOYS 


LOVE   FOR   THE   WHITE   HOUSE 

^  ^  White  House,  May  28,  1904. 

Dear  Ted: 

I  am  having  a  reasonable  amount  of  work  and 
rather  more  than  a  reasonable  amount  of  worry. 
But,  after  all,  life  is  lovely  here.  The  country  is 
beautiful,  and  I  do  not  think  that  any  two  people 
ever  got  more  enjoyment  out  of  the  White  House 
than  Mother  and  I.  We  love  the  house  itself, 
without  and  within,  for  its  associations,  for  its 
stillness  and  its  simplicity.  We  love  the  garden. 
And  we  like  Washington.  We  almost  always  take 
our  breakfast  on  the  south  portico  now.  Mother 
looking  very  pretty  and  dainty  in  her  summer 
dresses.  Then  we  stroll  about  the  garden  for  fif- 
teen or  twenty  minutes,  looking  at  the  flowers 
and  the  fountain  and  admiring  the  trees.  Then  I 
work  until  between  four  and  five,  usually  having 
some  official  people  to  lunch — now  a  couple  of 
Senators,  now  a  couple  of  Ambassadors,  now  a 
literary  man,  now  a  capitalist  or  a  labor  leader, 

[95] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

or  a  scientist,  or  a  big-game  hunter.  If  Mother 
wants  to  ride,  we  then  spend  a  couple  of  hours  on 
horseback.  We  had  a  lovely  ride  up  on  the  Vir- 
ginia shore  since  I  came  back,  and  yesterday 
went  up  Rock  Creek  and  swung  back  home  by 
the  roads  where  the  locust  trees  were  most  numer- 
ous— for  they  are  now  white  with  blossoms.  It 
is  the  last  great  burst  of  bloom  which  we  shall  see 
this  year  except  the  laurels.  But  there  are  plenty 
of  flowers  in  bloom  or  just  coming  out,  the  honey- 
suckle most  conspicuously.  The  south  portico  is 
fragrant  with  that  now.  The  jasmine  will  be  out 
later.  If  we  don't  ride  I  walk  or  play  tennis. 
But  I  am  afraid  Ted  has  gotten  out  of  his  father's 
class  in  tennis ! 

PETER  rabbit's   FUNERAL 

Dear  Kermit:  "^'^  ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  i^^^* 

It  was  great  fun  seeing  you  and  Ted,  and  I 

enjoyed  it  to  the  full. 

Ethel,  Archie  and  Quentin  have  gone  to  Mount 

Vernon  to-day  with  the  Garfield  boys.    Yester- 

[96] 


PETER  RABBIT'S  FUNERAL 

day  poor  Peter  Rabbit  died  and  his  funeral  was 
held  with  proper  state.  Archie,  in  his  overalls, 
dragged  the  wagon  with  the  little  black  coffin  in 
which  poor  Peter  Rabbit  lay.  Mother  walked 
behind  as  chief  mourner,  she  and  Archie  solemnly 
exchanging  tributes  to  the  worth  and  good  quali- 
ties of  the  departed.  Then  he  was  buried,  with  a 
fuchsia  over  the  little  grave. 

You  remember  Kenneth  Grahame's  account  of 
how  Harold  went  to  the  circus  and  sang  the  great 
spheral  song  of  the  circus  .^^  Well,  yesterday 
Mother  leaned  out  of  her  window  and  heard 
Archie,  swinging  under  a  magnolia  tree,  singing 
away  to  himself,  "I'm  going  to  Sagamore,  to  Sag- 
amore, to  Sagamore.  I'm  going  to  Sagamore,  oh, 
to  Sagamore ! "  It  was  his  spheral  song  of  joy 
and  thanksgiving. 

The  children's  delight  at  going  to  Sagamore 
next  week  has  completely  swallowed  up  all  regret 
at  leaving  Mother  and  me.  Quentin  is  very  cun- 
ning. He  and  Archie  love  to  play  the  hose  into 
the  sandbox  and  then,  with  their  thigh  rubber 

[97] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

boots  on,  to  get  in  and  make  fortifications.  Now 
and  then  they  play  it  over  each  other.  Ethel  is 
playing  tennis  quite  a  good  deal. 

I  think  Yagenka  is  going  to  come  out  all  right, 
and  Bleistein,  too.  I  have  no  hope  for  Wyoming 
or  Renown.  Fortunately,  Rusty  is  serving  us 
well. 

White  House,  June  12th,  1904. 
Blessed  Quenty-Quee: 

The  little  birds  in  the  nest  in  the  vines  on  the 
garden  fence  are  nearly  grown  up.  Their  mother 
still  feeds  them. 


You  see  the  mother  bird  with  a  worm  in  her 
beak,  and  the  little  birds  with  their  beaks  wide 
open! 

I  was  out  walking  the  other  day  and  passed  the 
[98] 


zoo  PICTURE  LETTER 


Zoo;  there  I  fed  with  grass  some  of  the  two-year- 
old  elk;  the  bucks  had  their  horns  *'in  the  velvet." 
I  fed  them  through  the  bars. 


White  House,  June  12tli,  1904. 

Blessed  Archie-kins: 

Give  my  love  to  Mademoiselle;  I  hope  you  and 
Quenty  are  very  good  with  her — and  don't  play  in 
the  library ! 

I  loved  your  letter,  and  think  you  were  very 
good  to  write. 

All  kinds  of  live  things  are  sent  me  from  time 
[99] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

to   time.     The  other   day   an   eagle  came;   this 
morning  an  owl. 


(I  have  drawn  him  holding  a  rat  in  one  claw.) 

We  sent  both  to  the  Zoo. 

The  other  day  while  walking  with  Mr.  Pinchot 
and  Mr.  Garfield  we  climbed  into  the  Blagden 
deer  park  and  almost  walked  over  such  a  pretty 
wee  fawn,  all  spotted;  it  ran  off  like  a  little  race 
horse. 


It  made  great  jumps  and  held  its  white  tail 
straight  in  the  air. 

[100] 


R'RER  RABBIT  AND  B'RER  TERRAPIN 

^  „  White  House,  June  21, 19©4. 

Dear  Quentyquee: 

The  other  day  when  out  riding  what  should  I 
see  in  the  road  ahead  of  me  but  a  real  B'rer  Ter- 
rapin and  B'rer  Rabbit.     They  were  sitting  sol- 


emnly beside  one  another  and  looked  just  as  if 
they  had  come  out  of  a  book;  but  as  my  horse 
walked  along  B'rer  Rabbit  went  lippity  lippity 
lippity  off  into  the  bushes  and  B'rer  Terrapin 
drew  in  his  head  and  legs  till  I  passed. 

CHARMS   OF  VALLEY   FORGE 

^  ^  White  House,  June  21,  1904. 

Dearest  Ethel: 

I  think  you  are  a  little  trump  and  I  love  your 

letter,  and  the  way  you  take  care  of  the  children 

and  keep  down  the  expenses  and  cook  bread  and 

are   just   your   own   blessed    busy    cunning    self. 

[101] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

You  would  have  enjoyed  being  at  Valley  Forge 
with  us  on  Sunday.  It  is  a  beautiful  place,  and, 
of  course,  full  of  historic  associations.  The  gar- 
den here  is  lovely.  A  pair  of  warbling  vireos 
have  built  in  a  linden  and  sing  all  the  time.  The 
lindens,  by  the  way,  are  in  bloom,  and  Massachu- 
setts Avenue  is  fragrant  with  them.  The  mag- 
nolias are  all  in  bloom,  too,  and  the  jasmine  on 
the  porch. 

Washington's    companions   at    valley    forge 

Dear  Ted*  White  House,  June  21,  1904. 

Mother  and  I  had  a  most  lovely  ride  the  other 
day,  way  up  beyond  Sligo  Creek  to  what  is  called 
North-west  Branch,  at  Burnt  Mills,  where  is  a 
beautiful  gorge,  deep  and  narrow,  with  great 
boulders  and  even  cliffs.  Excepting  Great  Falls 
it  is  the  most  beautiful  place  around  here.  Mother 
scrambled  among  the  cliffs  in  her  riding  habit, 
very  pretty  and  most  interesting.  The  roads  were 
good  and  some  of  the  scenery  really  beautiful. 
We  were  gone  four  hours,  half  an  hour  being 
occupied  with  the  scrambling  in  the  gorge. 
[  102] 


REFLECTIONS  AT  VALLEY  FORGE 

Saturday  we  went  to  the  wedding  of  Teddy 
Douglas  and  Helen.  It  was  a  beautiful  wedding 
in  every  way  and  I  am  very  fond  of  both  of  them. 
Sunday  we  spent  at  Attorney-General  Knox's  at 
Valley  Forge,  and  most  unexpectedly  I  had  to 
deliver  a  little  address  at  the  church  in  the  after- 
noon, as  they  are  trying  to  build  a  memorial  to 
Washington.  Think  of  the  fact  that  in  Wash- 
ington's army  that  winter  among  the  junior  oflS- 
cers  were  Alexander  Hamilton,  Monroe  and  Mar- 
shall— a  future  President  of  the  United  States, 
the  future  Chief  Justice  who  was  to  do  such  won- 
derful work  for  our  Government,  and  the  man  of 
most  brilliant  mind — Hamilton — whom  we  have 
ever  developed  in  this  country. 

ON   THE   EVE   OF   NOMINATION   FOR   PRESIDENT 

T^  -r^  White  House,  June  21,  1904. 

Dear  Kermit: 

We  spent  to-day  at  the  Knoxes'.     It  is  a  beau- 
tiful farm — just  such  a  one  as  you  could  run. 
Phil  Knox,  as  capable  and  efficient  as  he  is  diminu- 
tive, amused  Mother  and  me  greatly  by  the  silent 
[103] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

way  in  which  he  did  in  first-rate  way  his  full  share 
of  all  the  work. 

To-morrow  the  National  Convention  meets,  and 
barring  a  cataclysm  I  shall  be  nominated.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  sullen  grumbling,  but  it  has 
taken  more  the  form  of  resentment  against  what 
they  think  is  my  dictation  as  to  details  than 
against  me  personally.  They  don't  dare  to 
oppose  me  for  the  nomination  and  I  suppose  it  is 
hardly  likely  the  attempt  will  be  made  to  stam- 
pede the  Convention  for  any  one.  How  the  elec- 
tion will  turn  out  no  man  can  tell.  Of  course  I 
hope  to  be  elected,  but  I  realize  to  the  full  how 
very  lucky  I  have  been,  not  only  to  be  President 
but  to  have  been  able  to  accomplish  so  much 
while  President,  and  whatever  may  be  the  out- 
come, I  am  not  only  content  but  very  sincerely 
thankful  for  all  the  good  fortune  I  have  had. 
From  Panama  down  I  have  been  able  to  accom- 
plish certain  things  which  will  be  of  lasting  im- 
portance in  our  history.  Incidentally,  I  don't 
think  that  any  family  has  ever  enjoyed  the  White 
House  more  than  we  have.  I  was  thinking  about 
[104] 


WHITE   HOUSE. 


/V"^^  ^^^t^^  ^^     t:^i^ 


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Facsimile  of  letter — reduced. 


?^:^J^  ^^J^   ^^     /<^.^. 


to^^^^^^     ^U^c^ 


^^^-t^ 


C^-ryJ-C^ 


/^^^Z^^.^^       ^  ^"^^-^^  /  -.^m^^ 


-^ 


■^' 


K 


/^.   Cir-regif  ^>^~^ 


3 


BILL  THE  LIZARD  AGAIN 

it  just  this  morning  when  Mother  and  I  took 
breakfast  on  the  portico  and  afterwards  walked 
about  the  lovely  grounds  and  looked  at  the  stately 
historic  old  house.  It  is  a  wonderful  privilege  to 
have  been  here  and  to  have  been  given  the  chance 
to  do  this  work,  and  I  should  regard  myself  as 
having  a  small  and  mean  mind  if  in  the  event  of 
defeat  I  felt  soured  at  not  having  had  more  in- 
stead of  being  thankful  for  having  had  so  much. 

BILL    THE   LIZARD 

Blessed  AECiiiiaNs:     ^^'^'''^  House,  June  21. 1904. 

The  other  day  when  Mother  and  I  were  walking 
down  the  steps  of  the  big  south  porch  we  saw  a 
movement  among  the  honeysuckles  and  there  was 
Bill  the  lizard — your  lizard  that  you  brought 
home  from  Mount  Vernon.  We  have  seen  him 
several  times  since  and  he  is  evidently  entirely  at 
home  here.  The  White  House  seems  big  and 
empty  without  any  of  you  children  puttering 
around  it,  and  I  think  the  ushers  miss  you  very 
much.  I  play  tennis  in  the  late  afternoons  unless 
I  go  to  ride  with  Mother. 

[105] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

ON  THE  EVE   OF   ELECTION 
_  --  White  House,  Oct.  15,  1904. 

Darling  Kermit: 

The  weather  has  been  beautiful  the  last  week — 
mild,  and  yet  with  the  true  feeling  of  Fall  in  the 
air.  When  Mother  and  I  have  ridden  up  Rock 
Creek  through  the  country  round  about,  it  has 
been  a  perpetual  delight  just  to  look  at  the  foliage. 
I  have  never  seen  leaves  turn  more  beautifully. 
The  Virginia  creepers  and  some  of  the  maple  and 
gum  trees  are  scarlet  and  crimson.  The  oaks  are 
deep  red  brown.  The  beeches,  birches  and  hick- 
ories are  brilliant  saffron.  Just  at  this  moment  I 
am  dictating  while  on  my  way  with  Mother  to 
the  wedding  of  Senator  Knox's  daughter,  and  the 
country  is  a  blaze  of  color  as  we  pass  through  it, 
so  that  it  is  a  joy  to  the  eye  to  look  upon  it.  I 
do  not  think  I  have  ever  before  seen  the  colorings 
of  the  woods  so  beautiful  so  far  south  as  this. 
Ted  is  hard  at  work  with  Matt.  Hale,  who  is  a 
very  nice  fellow  and  has  become  quite  one  of  the 
household,  like  good  Mademoiselle.  I  am  really 
fond  of  her.  She  is  so  bright  and  amusing  and 
[106] 


A  ROCK  CREEK  SCRAMBLE 


now  seems  perfectly  happy,  and  is  not  only 
devoted  to  Archie  and  Quentin  but  is  very  wise 
in  the  way  she  takes  care  of  them.  Quentin, 
under  parental  duress,  rides  Algonquin  every  day. 
Archie  has  just  bought  himself  a  football  suit,  but 
I  have  not  noticed  that  he  has  played  football  as 
yet.  He  is  spending  Saturday  and  Sunday  out  at 
Dr.  Rixey's.  Ted  plays  tennis  w^ith  Matt.  Hale 
and  me  and  Mr.  Cooley.  Vse  tried  Dan  Moore. 
You  could  beat  him.  Yesterday  I  took  an  after- 
noon off  and  we  all  went  for  a  scramble  and  climb 
down  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac  from  Chain 
Bridge  home.  It  was  great  fun.  To-morrow 
(Sunday)  we  shall  have  lunch  early  and  spend  the 
afternoon  in  a  drive  of  the  entire  family,  includ- 
ing Ethel,  but  not  including  Archie  and  Quentin, 
out  to  Burnt  Mills  and  back.  When  I  say  we  all 
scrambled  along  the  Potomac,  I  of  course  only 
meant  Matt.  Hale  and  Ted  and  I.  Three  or  four 
active  male  friends  took  the  walk  with  us. 

In  politics  things  at  the  moment  seem  to  look 
quite  right,  but  every  form  of  lie  is  being  circu- 
lated  by   the  Democrats,   and   they   intend   un- 
[107] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

doubtedly  to  spring  all  kinds  of  sensational  un- 
truths at  the  very  end  of  the  campaign.  I  have 
not  any  idea  whether  we  will  win  or  not.  Before 
election  I  shall  send  you  my  guess  as  to  the  way 
the  different  States  will  vote,  and  then  you  can 
keep  it  and  see  how  near  to  the  truth  I  come. 
But  of  course  you  will  remember  that  it  is  a  mere 
guess,  and  that  I  may  be  utterly  mistaken  all 
along  the  line.  In  any  event,  even  if  I  am  beaten 
you  must  remember  that  we  have  had  three  years 
of  great  enjoyment  out  of  the  Presidency  and  that 
we  are  mighty  lucky  to  have  had  them. 

I  generally  have  people  in  to  lunch,  but  at  din- 
ner, thank  fortune,  we  are  usually  alone.  Though 
I  have  callers  in  the  evening,  I  generally  have  an 
hour  in  which  to  sit  with  Mother  and  the  others 
up  in  the  library,  talking  and  reading  and  watch- 
ing the  bright  wood  fire.  Ted  and  Ethel,  as  well 
as  Archie  and  Quentin,  are  generally  in  Mother's 
room  for  twenty  minutes  or  a  half  hour  just 
before  she  dresses,  according  to  immemorial 
custom. 

Last  evening  Mother  and  I  and  Ted  and  Ethel 
[108] 


COW-PUNCHER'S  VISIT 


and  Matt.  Hale  went  to  the  theatre  to  see  "The 
Yankee  Consul,"  which  was  quite  funny. 

BIG   JIM   WHITE 

^  ^^  WTiite  House,  Dec.  3,  1904. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

The  other  day  while  Major  Loeffler  was  mar- 
shalling the  usual  stream  of  visitors  from  Eng- 
land, Germany,  the  Pacific  slope,  etc.,  of  warm 
admirers  from  remote  country  places,  of  bridal 
couples,  etc.,  etc.,  a  huge  man  about  six  feet  four, 
of  middle  age,  but  with  every  one  of  his  great 
sinews  and  muscles  as  fit  as  ever,  came  in  and 
asked  to  see  me  on  the  ground  that  he  was  a 
former  friend.  As  the  line  passed  he  was  intro- 
duced to  me  as  Mr.  White.  I  greeted  him  in  the 
usual  rather  perfunctory  manner,  and  the  huge, 
rough-looking  fellow  shyly  remarked,  "Mr.  Rose- 
velt,  maybe  you  don't  recollect  me.  I  worked  on 
the  roundup  with  you  twenty  years  ago  next 
spring.  My  outfit  joined  yours  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Box  Alder."  I  gazed  at  him,  and  at  once 
said,  "  Why  it  is  big  Jim."  He  was  a  great  cow- 
[109] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

puncher  and  is  still  riding  the  range  in  north- 
western Nebraska.  When  I  knew  him  he  was  a 
tremendous  fighting  man,  but  always  liked  me. 
Twice  I  had  to  interfere  to  prevent  him  from  half 
murdering  cowboys  from  my  own  ranch.  I  had 
him  at  lunch,  with  a  mixed  company  of  home  and 
foreign  notabilities. 

Don't  worry  about  the  lessons,  old  boy.  I 
know  you  are  studying  hard.  Don't  get  cast 
down.  Sometimes  in  life,  both  at  school  and 
afterwards,  fortune  will  go  against  any  one,  but 
if  he  just  keeps  pegging  away  and  doesn't  lose  his 
courage  things  always  take  a  turn  for  the  better 
in  the  end. 

WINTER   LIFE   IN   THE  WHITE   HOUSE 

White  House,  Dec.  17,  1904. 
Blessed  Kermit: 

For  a  week  the  weather  has  been  cold — down  to 
zero  at  night  and  rarely  above  freezing  in  the 
shade  at  noon.  In  consequence  the  snow  has 
lain  well,  and  as  there  has  been  a  waxing  moon  I 
have  had  the  most  delightful  evening  and  night 
[110] 


INIOONLIGHT  RIDE 


rides  imaginable.  I  have  been  so  busy  that  I 
have  been  unable  to  get  away  until  after  dark, 
but  I  went  in  the  fur  jacket  Uncle  Will  presented 
to  me  as  the  fruit  of  his  prize  money  in  the  Span- 
ish War;  and  the  moonlight  on  the  glittering  snow 
made  the  rides  lovelier  than  they  would  have 
been  in  the  daytime.  Sometimes  Mother  and 
Ted  went  with  me,  and  the  gallops  were  delight- 
ful. To-day  it  has  snowed  heavily  again,  but  the 
snow  has  been  so  soft  that  I  did  not  like  to  go 
out,  and  besides  I  have  been  worked  up  to  the 
limit.  There  has  been  skating  and  sleigh-riding 
all  the  week. 

The  new  black  "Jack"  dog  is  becoming  very 
much  at  home  and  very  fond  of  the  family. 

With  Archie  and  Quentin  I  have  finished  "The 
Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  and  have  now  begun 
"The  Deerslayer."  They  are  as  cunning  as  ever, 
and  this  reading  to  them  in  the  evening  gives  me 
a  chance  to  see  them  that  I  would  not  otherwise 
have,  although  sometimes  it  is  rather  hard  to  get 
time. 

Mother  looks  very  young  and  pretty.     This 

[111] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

afternoon  stie  was  most  busy,  taking  tlie  little 
boys  to  the  theatre  and  then  going  to  hear  Ethel 
sing.  Ted,  very  swell  in  his  first  tail  coat,  is 
going  out  to  take  supper  at  Secretary  Morton's, 
whose  pretty  daughter  is  coming  out  to-night. 
In  a  very  few  days  now  we  shall  see  you  again. 

PLAYMATE  OF  THE   CHILDREN 
{To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Emlen  Roosevelt) 

White  House,  Jan.  4,  1905. 

I  am  really  touched  at  the  way  in  which  your 
children  as  well  as  my  own  treat  me  as  a  friend 
and  playmate.  It  has  its  comic  side.  Thus,  the 
last  day  the  boys  were  here  they  were  all  bent 
upon  having  me  take  them  for  a  scramble  down 
Rock  Creek.  Of  course,  there  was  absolutely  no 
reason  why  they  could  not  go  alone,  but  they 
obviously  felt  that  my  presence  was  needed  to 
give  zest  to  the  entertainment.  Accordingly,  off 
I  went,  with  the  two  Russell  boys,  George,  Jack, 
and  Philip,  and  Ted,  Kermit,  and  Archie,  with 
one  of  Archie's  friends — a  sturdy  little  boy  who, 
as  Archie  informed  me,  had  played  opposite  to 
him  in  the  position  of  centre  rush  last  fall.  I  do 
[112  1 


JAPANESE  BOY'S  LETTER 


not  think  that  one  of  them  saw  anything  incon- 
gruous in  the  President's  getting  as  bedaubed 
with  mud  as  they  got,  or  in  my  wiggling  and 
clambering  around  jutting  rocks,  through  cracks, 
and  up  what  were  really  small  cliff  faces,  just  like 
the  rest  of  them;  and  whenever  any  one  of  them 
beat  me  at  any  point,  he  felt  and  expressed  sim- 
ple and  whole-hearted  delight,  exactly  as  if  it  had 
been  a  triumph  over  a  rival  of  his  own  age. 

A   JAPANESE   boy's   LETTER 

{To  Dr.  William  Sturgis  Bigelow) 

Dear  Sturgis:  "^"^  ^ouse,  Jan.  14,  1905. 

Last  year,  when  I  had  Professor  Yamashita 
teach  me  the  "Jiudo" — as  they  seem  now  to  call 
Jiu  Jitsu — the  naval  attache  here.  Commander 
Takashita,  used  to  come  around  here  and  bring  a 
young  lad,  Kitgaki,  who  is  now  entering  Annapo- 
lis. I  used  to  wrestle  with  them  both.  They 
were  very  fond  of  Archie  and  were  very  good  to 
him.  This  Christmas  Kitgaki  sent  from  Annapo- 
lis a  little  present  to  Archie,  who  wrote  to  thank 
him,  and  Kitgaki  sent  him  a  letter  back  that  we 
like  so  much  that  I  thought  you  might  enjoy  it, 
[113  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

as  it  shows  so  nice  a  trait  in  the  Japanese  char- 
acter.    It  runs  as  follows: 

"My  dearest  boy: 

"I  received  your  nice  letter.  I  thank  you  ever 
so  much.  I  am  very  very  glad  that  you  have 
receive  my  small  present. 

"I  like  you  very  very  much.  When  I  have 
been  in  Jiudo  room  with  your  father  and  you, 
your  father  was  talking  to  us  about  the  picture 
of  the  caverly  officer.  In  that  time,  I  saw  some 
expression  on  your  face.  Another  remembering 
of  you  is  your  bravery  when  you  sleped  down 
from  a  tall  chair.  The  two  rememberings  can't 
leave  from  my  head. 

"I  returned  here  last  Thursday  and  have  plenty 
lesson,  so  my  work  is  hard,  hard,  hard,  more  than 
Jiudo. 

"I  hope  your  good  health. 

"I  am, 

"Sincerely  yours, 

"A.   KiTGAKI." 

Isn't  it  a  nice  letter  ? 

[114] 


THINKING  TOO  MUCH  OF  HOME 

ON   COUNTING   DAYS  AND   WRESTLING 

^  ^^  WHite  House,  Feb.  24,  1905. 

Darling  Kermit: 

I  puzzled  a  good  deal  over  your  marks.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  one  explanation  is  that  you 
have  thought  so  much  of  home  as  to  prevent  your 
really  putting  your  whole  strength  into  your 
studies.  It  is  most  natural  that  you  should  count 
the  days  before  coming  home,  and  write  as  you 
do  that  it  will  only  be  33  days,  only  26  days,  only 
19  days,  etc.,  but  at  the  same  time  it  seems  to  me 
that  perhaps  this  means  that  you  do  not  really 
put  all  your  heart  and  all  your  head  effort  into 
your  work;  and  that  if  you  are  able  to,  it  would  be 
far  better  to  think  just  as  little  as  possible  about 
coming  home  and  resolutely  set  yourself  to  put- 
ting your  best  thought  into  your  work.  It  is  an 
illustration  of  the  old  adage  about  putting  your 
hand  to  the  plow  and  then  looking  back.  In 
after  life,  of  course,  it  is  always  possible  that  at 
some  time  you  may  have  to  go  away  for  a  year 
or  two  from  home  to  do  some  piece  of  work.  If 
during  that  whole  time  you  only  thought  day 
[  115  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

after  day  of  how  soon  you  would  get  home  I  think 
you  would  find  it  difficult  to  do  your  best  work; 
and  maybe  this  feeling  may  be  partly  responsible 
for  the  trouble  with  the  lessons  at  school. 

Wednesday,  Washington's  Birthday,  I  went  to 
Philadelphia  and  made  a  speech  at  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania,  took  lunch  with  the  Philadelphia 
City  Troop  and  came  home  the  same  afternoon 
with  less  fatigue  than  most  of  my  trips  cost  me; 
for  I  was  able  to  dodge  the  awful  evening  banquet 
and  the  night  on  the  train  which  taken  together 
drive  me  nearly  melancholy  mad.  Since  Sunday 
we  have  not  been  able  to  ride.  I  still  box  with 
Grant,  who  has  now  become  the  champion  middle- 
weight wrestler  of  the  United  States.  Yesterday 
afternoon  we  had  Professor  Yamashita  up  here  to 
wrestle  with  Grant.  It  was  very  interesting,  but 
of  course  jiu  jitsu  and  our  wrestling  are  so  far 
apart  that  it  is  difficult  to  make  any  comparison 
between  them.  Wrestling  is  simply  a  sport  with 
rules  almost  as  conventional  as  those  of  tennis, 
while  jiu  jitsu  is  really  meant  for  practice  in  kill- 
ing or  disabling  our  adversary.     In  consequence, 

[lie] 


JIU  JITSU  AND  WRESTLING 

Grant  did  not  know  what  to  do  except  to  put 
Yamashita  on  his  back,  and  Yamashita  v/as  per- 
fectly content  to  be  on  his  back.  Inside  of  a 
minute  Yamashita  had  choked  Grant,  and  inside 
of  two  minutes  more  he  got  an  elbow  hold  on  him 
that  would  have  enabled  him  to  break  his  arm;  so 
that  there  is  no  question  but  that  he  could  have 
put  Grant  out.  So  far  this  made  it  evident  that 
the  jiu  jitsu  man  could  handle  the  ordinary 
wrestler.  But  Grant,  in  the  actual  wrestling  and 
throwing  was  about  as  good  as  the  Japanese,  and 
he  was  so  much  stronger  that  he  evidently  hurt 
and  wore  out  the  Japanese.  With  a  little  prac- 
tice in  the  art  I  am  sure  that  one  of  our  big 
wrestlers  or  boxers,  simply  because  of  his  greatly 
superior  strength,  would  be  able  to  kill  any  of 
those  Japanese,  who  though  very  good  men  for 
their  inches  and  pounds  are  altogether  too  small 
to  hold  their  own  against  big,  powerful,  quick 
men  who  are  as  well  trained. 


[117] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

SPBING  IN  WASHINGTON 

^  T-^  White  House,  March  20,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Poor  John  Hay  has  been  pretty  sick.  He  is 
going  away  to  try  to  pick  up  his  health  by  a  sea 
voyage  and  rest.  I  earnestly  hope  he  succeeds, 
not  only  because  of  my  great  personal  fondness 
for  him,  but  because  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
nation  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  replace  him. 
Every  Sunday  on  my  way  home  from  church  I 
have  been  accustomed  to  stop  in  and  see  him. 
The  conversation  with  him  was  always  delightful, 
and  during  these  Sunday  morning  talks  we  often 
decided  important  questions  of  public  policy. 

I  paid  a  scuttling  visit  to  New  York  on  Friday 
to  give  away  Eleanor  at  her  marriage,  and  to 
make  two  speeches — one  to  the  Friendly  Sons  of 
St.  Patrick  and  one  to  the  Sons  of  the  American 
Revolution. 

Mother  and  I  have  been  riding  a  good  deal, 
and  the  country  is  now  lovely.  Moreover,  Ted 
and  Matt  and  I  have  begun  playing  tennis. 

The  birds  have  come  back.  Not  only  song- 
[118] 


PRESIDENTIAL  SPEAKING  TOUR 

sparrows  and  robins,  but  a  winter  wren,  purple 
finches  and  tufted  titmice  are  singing  in  the  gar- 
den; and  the  other  morning  early  Mother  and  I 
were  waked  up  by  the  loud  singing  of  a  cardinal 
bird  in  the  magnolia  tree  just  outside  our  windows. 

Yesterday  afternoon  Archie  and  Quentin  each 
had  a  little  boy  to  see  him.  They  climbed  trees, 
sailed  boats  in  the  fountain,  and  dug  in  the  sand- 
box like  woodcocks. 

Poor  Mr.  Frank  Travers  died  last  night.  I  was 
very  sorry.     He  has  been  a  good  friend  to  me. 

A   HUNTING   TRIP 

Colorado  Springs,  Colorado, 
^  T^  April  14,  1905. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

I  hope  you  had  as  successful  a  trip  in  Florida 
as  I  have  had  in  Texas  and  Oklahoma.  The  first 
six  days  were  of  the  usual  Presidential  tour  type, 
but  much  more  pleasant  than  ordinarily,  because 
I  did  not  have  to  do  quite  as  much  speaking,  and 
there  was  a  certain  irresponsibility  about  it  all, 
due  I  suppose  in  part  to  the  fact  that  I  am  no 
longer  a  candidate  and  am  free  from  the  ever- 

[119] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

lasting  suspicion  and  ill-natured  judgment  which 
being  a  candidate  entails.  However,  both  in 
Kentucky,  and  especially  in  Texas,  I  was  received 
with  a  warmth  and  heartiness  that  surprised  me, 
w^hile  the  Rough  Riders'  reunion  at  San  Antonio 
was  delightful  in  every  way. 

Then  came  the  ^ve  days  wolf  hunting  in  Okla- 
homa, and  this  was  unalloyed  pleasure,  except  for 
my  uneasiness  about  Auntie  Bye  and  poor  little 
Sheffield.  General  Young,  Dr.  Lambert  and  Roly 
Fortescue  were  each  in  his  own  way  just  the  nicest 
companions  imaginable,  my  Texas  hosts  were  too 
kind  and  friendly  and  open-hearted  for  anything. 
I  want  to  have  the  whole  party  up  at  Washington 
next  winter.  The  party  got  seventeen  wolves, 
three  coons,  and  any  number  of  rattlesnakes.  I 
was  in  at  the  death  of  eleven  wolves.  The  other 
six  wolves  were  killed  by  members  of  the  party 
who  were  off  with  bunches  of  dogs  in  some  place 
where  I  was  not.  I  never  took  part  in  a  run 
which  ended  in  the  death  of  a  wolf  without  get- 
ting through  the  run  in  time  to  see  the  death.  It 
was  tremendous  galloping  over  cut  banks,  prairie 
[120] 


ABERNETHY,  WOLF  CHOKER 

dog  towns,  flats,  creek  bottoms,  everything.  One 
run  was  nine  miles  long  and  I  was  the  only  man 
in  at  tKe  finish  except  the  professional  wolf  hunter 
Abernethy,  who  is  a  really  wonderful  fellow, 
catching  the  wolves  alive  by  thrusting  his  gloved 
hands  down  between  their  jaws  so  that  they  can- 
not bite.  He  caught  one  wolf  alive,  tied  up  this 
woK,  and  tlien  held  it  on  the  saddle,  followed  his 
dogs  in  a  sev^en-mile  run  and  helped  kill  another 
wolf.  He  has  a  pretty  wife  and  five  cunning  chil- 
dren of  whom  he  is  very  proud,  and  introduced 
them  to  me,  and  I  liked  him  much.  We  were  in 
the  saddle  eight  or  nine  hours  every  day,  and  I 
am  rather  glad  to  have  thirty-six  hours'  rest  on 
the  cars  before  starting  on  my  Colorado  bear 
hunt. 

ABERNETHY   THE   WOLF   HUNTER 

Glen  wood  Springs,  Colorado, 

Dear  Ted:  ^P"'  ^O'  >»«- 

I  do  wish  you  could  have  been  along  on  this 

trip.     It  has  been  great  fun.     In  Oklahoma  our 

party   got   all   told   seventeen   coyotes   with   the 

greyhounds.     I  was  in  at  the  death  of  eleven,  the 

[121] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

only  ones  started  by  the  dogs  with  which  I  hap- 
pened to  be.  In  one  run  the  three  Easterners 
covered  themselves  with  glory,  as  Dr.  Lambert, 
Roly  Fortescue  and  I  were  the  only  ones  who  got 
through  excepting  Abernethy,  the  wolf  hunter. 
It  happened  because  it  was  a  nine-mL^e  run  and 
all  the  cowboys  rode  their  horses  to  a  standstill 
in  the  first  three  or  four  miles,  after  which  I  came 
bounding  along,  like  Kermit  in  the  paper  chase, 
and  got  to  the  end  in  time  to  see  the  really  remark- 
able feat  of  Abernethy  jumping  on  to  the  wolf, 
thrusting  his  gloved  hand  into  its  mouth,  and 
mastering  it  then  and  there.  He  never  used  a 
knife  or  a  rope  in  taking  these  wolves,  seizing 
them  by  sheer  quickness  and  address  and  thrust- 
ing his  hand  into  the  wolf's  mouth  in  such  a  way 
that  it  lost  all  power  to  bite.  You  would  have 
loved  Tom  Burnett,  the  son  of  the  big  cattle  man. 
He  is  a  splendid  fellow,  about  thirty  years  old, 
and  just  the  ideal  of  what  a  young  cattle  man 
should  be. 

Up  here  we  have  opened  well.     We  have  two 
cracker  jacks  as  guides — John  Goff,  my  old  guide 
[122] 


THE  TERRIER  SKIP 


on  the  mountain  lion  hunt,  and  Jake  Borah,  who 
has  somewhat  the  Seth  Bullock  type  of  face.  We 
have  about  thirty  dogs,  including  one  absurd  little 
terrier  about  half  Jack's  size,  named  Skip.  Skip 
trots  all  day  long  with  the  hounds,  excepting 
when  he  can  persuade  Mr.  Stewart,  or  Dr.  Lam- 
bert, or  me  to  take  him  up  for  a  ride,  for  which 
he  is  always  begging.  He  is  most  affectionate 
and  intelligent,  but  when  there  is  a  bear  or  lynx 
at  bay  he  joins  in  the  fight  with  all  the  fury  of  a 
bull  dog,  though  I  do  not  think  he  is  much  more 
effective  than  one  of  your  Japanese  mice  would 
be.  I  should  like  to  bring  him  home  for  Archie 
or  Quentin.  He  would  go  everywhere  with  them 
and  would  ride  Betsy  or  Algonquin. 

On  the  third  day  out  I  got  a  fine  big  black  bear, 
an  old  male  who  would  not  tree,  but  made  what 
they  call  in  Mississippi  a  walking  bay  with  the 
dogs,  fighting  them  off  all  the  time.  The  chase 
lasted  nearly  two  hours  and  was  ended  by  a  hard 
scramble  up  a  canyon  side;  and  I  made  a  pretty 
good  shot  at  him  as  he  was  walking  off  with  the 
pack  around  him.  He  killed  one  dog  and  crip- 
f  123  1 


LETTERS  TO  fflS  CHILDREN 

pled  three  that  I  think  will  recover,  besides 
scratching  others.  My  30-40  Springfield  worked 
to  perfection  on  the  bear. 

I  suppose  you  are  now  in  the  thick  of  your 
studies  and  will  have  but  little  time  to  rest  after 
the  examinations.  I  shall  be  back  about  the 
18th,  and  then  we  can  take  up  our  tennis  again. 
Give  my  regards  to  Matt. 

I  am  particularly  pleased  that  Maurice  turned 
out  so  well.  He  has  always  been  so  pleasant  to 
me  that  I  had  hoped  he  would  turn  out  all  right 
in  the  end. 

PRAIRIE   GIRLS 
Divide  Creek,  Colo.,  April  26,  1905. 

Darling  Ethel: 

Of  course  you  remember  the  story  of  the  little 
prairie  girl.  I  always  associate  it  with  you.  Well, 
again  and  again  on  this  trip  we  would  pass  through 
prairie  villages — bleak  and  lonely — with  all  the 
people  in  from  miles  about  to  see  me.  Among 
them  were  often  dozens  of  young  girls,  often 
pretty,  and  as  far  as  I  could  see  much  more  happy 
[  124  ] 


BEARS  AND  BOBCATS 


than  the  heroine  of  the  story.  One  of  them  shook 
hands  with  me,  and  then,  after  much  whispering, 
said:  "We  want  to  shake  hands  with  the  guard  !" 
The  "guard"  proved  to  be  Roly,  who  was  very 
swell  in  his  uniform,  and  whom  they  evidently 
thought  much  more  attractive  than  the  Presi- 
dent, both  in  age  and  looks. 

There  are  plenty  of  ranchmen  round  here;  they 
drive  over  to  camp  to  see  me,  usually  bringing  a 
cake,  or  some  milk  and  eggs,  and  are  very  nice 
and  friendly.  About  twenty  of  the  men  came 
out  with  me,  "to  see  the  President  shoot  a  bear"; 
and  fortunately  I  did  so  in  the  course  of  an  ex- 
hausting twelve  hours'  ride.  I  am  very  home- 
sick for  you  all. 

BEARS,  BOBCATS  AND  SKIP 

Glenwood  Springs,  Colorado, 
^  ^  May  2,  1905. 

Blessed  Kermit: 

I  was  delighted  to  get  your  letter.     I  am  sorry 

you  are  having  such  a  hard  time  in  mathematics, 

but  hope  a  couple  of  weeks  will  set  you  all  right. 

We  have  had  a  very  successful  hunt.     All  told  we 

[125] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

have  obtained  ten  bear  and  three  bobcats.  Dr. 
Lambert  has  been  a  perfect  trump.  He  is  in  the 
pink  of  condition,  while  for  the  last  week  I  have 
been  a  little  knocked  out  by  the  Cuban  fever. 
Up  to  that  time  I  was  simply  in  splendid  shape. 
There  is  a  very  cunning  little  dog  named  Skip,  be- 
longing to  John  Goff's  pack,  who  has  completely 
adopted  me.  I  think  I  shall  take  him  home  to 
Archie.  He  likes  to  ride  on  Dr.  Lambert's  horse, 
or  mine,  and  though  he  is  not  as  big  as  Jack, 
takes  eager  part  in  the  fight  with  every  bear  and 
bobcat. 

I  am  sure  you  will  enjoy  your  trip  to  Deadwood 
with  Seth  Bullock,  and  as  soon  as  you  return 
from  Groton  I  shall  write  to  him  about  it.  I 
have  now  become  very  homesick  for  Mother,  and 
shall  be  glad  when  the  12th  of  May  comes  and  I 
am  back  in  the  White  House. 

HOME  AGAIN  WITH   SKIP 

Dear  Kermit:  "^^^  ^^^^^'  ^^^  ^4'  ^^^^' 

Here  I  am  back  again,  and  mighty  glad  to  be 
back.     It  was  perfectly  delightful  to  see  Mother 
f  126  1 


SKIP  IN  THE  WHITE  HOUSE 

and  the  children,  but  it  made  me  very  homesick 
for  you.  Of  course  I  was  up  to  my  ears  in  work 
as  soon  as  I  reached  the  White  House,  but  in  two 
or  three  days  we  shall  be  through  it  and  can  set- 
tle down  into  our  old  routine. 

Yesterday  afternoon  we  played  tennis,  Herbert 
Knox  Smith  and  I  beating  Matt  and  Murray. 
To-day  I  shall  take  cunning  mother  out  for  a 
ride. 

Skip  accompanied  me  to  Washington.  He  is 
not  as  yet  entirely  at  home  in  the  White  House 
and  rather  clings  to  my  companionship.  I  think 
he  will  soon  be  fond  of  Archie,  who  loves  him 
dearly.  Mother  is  kind  to  Skip,  but  she  does  not 
think  he  is  an  aristocrat  as  Jack  is.  He  is  a  very 
cunning  little  dog  all  the  same. 

Mother  walked  with  me  to  church  this  morn- 
ing and  both  the  past  evenings  we  have  been 
able  to  go  out  into  the  garden  and  sit  on  the 
stone  benches  near  the  fountain.  The  country  is 
too  lovely  for  anything,  everything  being  a  deep, 
rich,  fresh  green. 

I  had  a  great  time  in  Chicago  with  the  labor 
[127] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

union  men.  They  made  what  I  regarded  as  a 
rather  insolent  demand  upon  me,  and  I  gave  them 
some  perfectly  straight  talk  about  their  duty  and 
about  the  preservation  of  law  and  order.  The 
trouble  seems  to  be  increasing  there,  and  I  may 
have  to  send  Federal  troops  into  the  city — though 
I  shall  not  do  so  unless  it  is  necessary. 

SKIP   IN   THE   WHITE   HOUSE 
^  ^^  White  House,  May  14,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

That  was  a  good  mark  in  Latin,  and  I  am 
pleased  with  your  steady  improvement  in  it. 

Skip  is  housebroken,  but  he  is  like  a  real  little 
Indian.  He  can  stand  any  amount  of  hard  work 
if  there  is  a  bear  or  bobcat  ahead,  but  now  that 
he  is  in  the  WTiite  House  he  thinks  he  would  much 
rather  do  nothing  but  sit  about  all  day  with  his 
friends,  and  threatens  to  turn  into  a  lapdog.  But 
when  we  get  him  to  Oyster  Bay  I  think  we  can 
make  him  go  out  riding  with  us,  and  then  I  think 
he  will  be  with  Archie  a  great  deal.  He  and  Jack 
are  rather  jealous  of  one  another.  He  is  very 
[128] 


JAPANESE  NAVAL  OFFICERS 

cunning  and  friendly.  I  am  immensely  pleased 
with  Mother's  Virginia  cottage  and  its  name.  I 
am  going  down  there  for  Sunday  with  her  some 
time  soon. 

P.  S. — Your  marks  have  just  come !  By 
George,  you  have  worked  hard  and  I  am  delighted. 
Three  cheers ! 

OFFICERS  OF  TOGO's  FLEET 

T>BAR  Kermit:  ^^^^^  ^^^'"'  '^^^^  ^'  ^^^^• 

Next  Friday  I  am  going  down  with  Mother  to 
spend  a  couple  of  days  at  Pine  Knot,  which 
Mother  loves  just  as  Ethel  loves  Fidelity.  She 
and  I  have  had  some  lovely  rides  together,  and  if 
I  do  not  go  riding  with  her  I  play  tennis  with  Ted 
and  some  of  his  and  my  friends.  Yesterday  Ted 
and  one  of  his  friends  played  seven  sets  of  tennis 
against  Mr.  Cooley  and  me  and  beat  us  four  to 
three.  In  the  evening  Commander  Takashita 
brought  in  half  a  dozen  Japanese  naval  officers 
who  had  been  with  Togo's  fleet  off  Port  Arthur 
and  had  taken  part  in  the  fleet  actions,  the  attacks 
with  the  torpedo-boat  flotilla,  and  so  forth.  I 
[129] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

3 

tell  you  they  were  a  formidable-looking  set  and 
evidently  dead  game  fighters  ! 

A   PRESIDENT   AS   COOK 

T^  ^^  White  House,  June  11,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Mother  and  I  have  just  come  home  from  a 
lovely  trip  to  "Pine  Knot.'*  It  is  really  a  per- 
fectly delightful  little  place;  the  nicest  little  place 
of  the  kind  you  can  imagine.  Mother  is  a  great 
deal  more  pleased  with  it  than  any  child  with 
any  toy  I  ever  saw.  She  went  down  the  day  be- 
fore, Thursday,  and  I  followed  on  Friday  morn- 
ing. Good  Mr.  Joe  Wilmer  met  me  at  the  sta- 
tion and  we  rode  on  horseback  to  "Round  Top," 
where  we  met  Mother  and  Mr.  Willie  Wilmer. 
We  all  had  tea  there  and  then  drove  to  "Plain 
Dealing,"  where  we  had  dinner.  Of  course  I 
loved  both  "Round  Top"  and  "Plain  Dealing," 
and  as  for  the  two  Mr.  Wilmers,  they  are  the 
most  generous,  thoughtful,  self-effacing  friends 
that  any  one  could  wish  to  see.  After  dinner  we 
went  over  to  "Pine  Knot,"  put  everything  to 
[130] 


SIMPLE  LIFE  AT  PINE  KNOT 

order  and  went  to  bed.  Next  day  we  spent  all 
by  ourselves  at  "Pine  Knot."  In  the  morning  I 
fried  bacon  and  eggs,  while  Mother  boiled  the 
kettle  for  tea  and  laid  the  table.  Breakfast  was 
most  successful,  and  then  Mother  washed  the 
dishes  and  did  most  of  the  work,  while  I  did  odd 
jobs.  Then  we  walked  about  the  place,  which  is 
fifteen  acres  in  all,  saw  the  lovely  spring,  admired 
the  pine  trees  and  the  oak  trees,  and  then  Mother 
lay  in  the  hammock  while  I  cut  away  some  trees 
to  give  us  a  better  view  from  the  piazza.  The 
piazza  is  the  real  feature  of  the  house.  It  is 
broad  and  runs  along  the  whole  length  and  the 
roof  is  high  near  the  wall,  for  it  is  a  continuation 
of  the  roof  of  the  house.  It  was  lovely  to  sit 
there  in  the  rocking-chairs  and  hear  all  the  birds 
by  daytime  and  at  night  the  whippoorwills  and 
owls  and  little  forest  folk. 

Inside  the  house  is  just  a  bare  wall  with  one 
big  room  below,  which  is  nice  now,  and  will  be 
still  nicer  when  the  chimneys  are  up  and  there  is 
a  fireplace  in  each  end.  A  rough  flight  of  stairs 
leads  above,  where  there  are  two  rooms,  separated 
[1311 


LETTERS  TO  fflS  CHILDREN 

by  a  passageway.  We  did  everything  for  our- 
selves, but  all  the  food  we  had  was  sent  over  to 
us  by  the  dear  Wilmers,  together  with  milk.  We 
cooked  it  ourselves,  so  there  was  no  one  around 
the  house  to  bother  us  at  all.  As  we  found  that 
cleaning  dishes  took  up  an  awful  time  we  only 
took  two  meals  a  day,  which  was  all  we  wanted. 
On  Saturday  evening  I  fried  two  chickens  for 
dinner,  while  Mother  boiled  the  tea,  and  we  had 
cherries  and  wild  strawberries,  as  well  as  biscuits 
and  cornbread.  To  my  pleasure  Mother  greatly 
enjoyed  the  fried  chicken  and  admitted  that  what 
you  children  had  said  of  the  way  I  fried  chicken 
was  all  true.  In  the  evening  we  sat  out  a  long 
time  on  the  piazza,  and  then  read  indoors  and 
then  went  to  bed.  Sunday  morning  we  did  not 
get  up  until  nine.  Then  I  fried  Mother  some 
beefsteak  and  some  eggs  in  two  frying-pans,  and 
she  liked  them  both  very  much.  We  went  to 
church  at  the  dear  little  church  where  the  Wilmers' 
father  and  mother  had  been  married,  dined  soon 
after  two  at  "Plain  Dealing,"  and  then  were 
driven  over  to  the  station  to  go  back  to  Wash- 
[132  1 


EFFORTS  OF  A  PEACEMAKER 

ington.  I  rode  the  big  black  stallion — Chief — 
and  enjoyed  it  thoroughly.  Altogether  we  had  a 
very  nice  holiday. 

I  was  lucky  to  be  able  to  get  it,  for  during  the 
past  fortnight,  and  indeed  for  a  considerable  time 
before,  I  have  been  carrying  on  negotiations  with 
both  Russia  and  Japan,  together  with  side  nego- 
tiations with  Germany,  France  and  England,  to 
try  to  get  the  present  war  stopped.  With  infinite 
labor  and  by  the  exercise  of  a  good  deal  of  tact 
and  judgment — if  I  do  say  it  myself — I  have 
finally  gotten  the  Japanese  and  Russians  to  agree 
to  meet  to  discuss  the  terms  of  peace.  "WTiether 
they  will  be  able  to  come  to  an  agreement  or  not 
I  can't  say.  But  it  is  worth  while  to  have  ob- 
tained the  chance  of  peace,  and  the  only  possible 
way  to  get  this  chance  was  to  secure  such  an 
agreement  of  the  two  powers  that  they  would 
meet  and  discuss  the  terms  direct.  Of  course 
Japan  will  want  to  ask  more  than  she  ought  to 
ask,  and  Russia  to  give  less  than  she  ought  to 
give.  Perhaps  both  sides  will  prove  impracti- 
cable. Perhaps  one  will.  But  there  is  the  chance 
[133] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

that  they  will  prove  sensible,  and  make  a  peace, 
which  will  really  be  for  the  interest  of  each  as 
things  are  now.  At  any  rate  the  experiment  was 
worth  trying.  I  have  kept  the  secret  very  suc- 
cessfully, and  my  dealings  with  the  Japanese  in 
particular  have  been  known  to  no  one,  so  that 
the  result  is  in  the  nature  of  a  surprise. 

quentin's  quaint  sayings 
_  ^^  Oyster  Bay,  N.  Y.,  Aug.  26,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Mr.  Phil  Stewart  and  Dr.  Lambert  spent  a 
night  here,  Quentin  greeting  the  former  with 
most  cordial  friendship,  and  in  explanation  stat- 
ing that  he  always  liked  to  get  acquainted  with 
everybody.  I  take  Hall  to  chop,  and  he  plays 
tennis  with  Phil  and  Oliver,  and  rides  witli  Phil 
and  Quentin.  The  Plunger  (a  submarine)  has 
come  to  the  Bay  and  I  am  going  out  in  it  this 
afternoon — or  rather  down  on  it.  N.  B. — I  have 
just  been  down,  for  50  minutes;  it  was  very  inter- 
esting. 

Last  night  I  listened  to  Mother  reading  "The 
[134] 


PUNKEY  DOODLE  AND  JOLLAPIN 

Lances  of  Lin  wood"  to  the  two  little  boys  and 
then  hearing  them  their  prayers.  Then  I  went 
into  Archie's  room,  where  they  both  showed  all 
their  china  animals;  I  read  them  Laura  E.  Rich- 
ards' poems,  including  "How  does  the  President 
take  his  tea?"  They  christened  themselves  Pun- 
key  Doodle  and  JoUapin,  from  the  chorus  of  this, 
and  immediately  afterwards  I  played  with  them 
on  Archie's  bed.  First  I  would  toss  Punkey 
Doodle  (Quentin)  on  Jollapin  (Archie)  and  tickle 
JoUapin  while  Punkey  Doodle  squalled  and  wig- 
gled on  top  of  him,  and  then  reverse  them  and 
keep  Punkey  Doodle  down  by  heaving  Jollapin  on 
him,  while  they  both  kicked  and  struggled  until 
my  shirt  front  looked  very  much  the  worse  for 
wear.  You  doubtless  remember  yourself  how  bad 
it  was  for  me,  when  I  was  dressed  for  dinner,  to 
play  with  all  you  scamps  when  you  were  little. 
The  other  day  a  reporter  asked  Quentin  some- 
thing about  me;  to  which  that  affable  and  canny 
young  gentleman  responded,  "Yes,  I  see  him 
sometimes;  but  I  know  nothing  of  his  family  life." 

[135] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

ADVICE   REGARDING   NEWSPAPER   ANNOYANCES 

When  Theodore  Roosevelt,  Jr.,  entered  Harvard 
as  a  freshman  he  had  to  pay  the  penalty  of  being 
a  President's  son.  Newspaper  reporters  followed 
all  his  movements,  especially  in  athletics,  and  he 
was  the  victim  of  many  exaggerated  and  often 
purely  fictitious  accounts  of  his  doings.  His 
father  wrote  him  indignant  and  sympathetic  let- 
ters, two  of  which  are  reproduced  here. 

Blessed  old  Ted:     ^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^'^^^'  ^'  i^^^- 

The  thing  to  do  is  to  go  on  just  as  you  have 
evidently  been  doing,  attract  as  little  attention 
as  possible,  do  not  make  a  fuss  about  the  news- 
paper men,  camera  creatures,  and  idiots  gener- 
ally, letting  it  be  seen  that  you  do  not  like  them 
and  avoid  them,  but  not  letting  them  betray  you 
into  any  excessive  irritation.  I  believe  they  will 
soon  drop  you,  and  it  is  just  an  unpleasant  thing 
that  you  will  have  to  live  down.  Ted,  I  have 
had  an  enormous  number  of  unpleasant  things 
that  I  have  had  to  live  down  in  my  life  at  different 
times  and  you  have  begun  to  have  them  now.  I 
[136] 


ADVICE  AND  SYMPATHY 


saw  that  you  were  not  out  on  the  football  field  on 
Saturday  and  was  rather  glad  of  it,  as  evidently 
those  infernal  idiots  were  eagerly  waiting  for  you, 
but  whenever  you  do  go  you  will  have  to  make 
up  your  mind  that  they  will  make  it  exceedingly 
unpleasant  for  you  for  once  or  twice,  and  you 
will  just  have  to  bear  it;  for  you  can  never  in  the 
world  afford  to  let  them  drive  you  away  from 
anything  you  intend  to  do,  whether  it  is  football 
or  anything  else,  and  by  going  about  your  own 
business  quietly  and  pleasantly,  doing  just  what 
you  would  do  if  they  were  not  there,  generally 
they  will  get  tired  of  it,  and  the  boys  themselves 
will  see  that  it  is  not  your  fault,  and  will  feel,  if 
anything,  rather  a  sympathy  for  you.  Meanwhile 
I  want  you  to  know  that  we  are  all  thinking  of 
you  and  sympathizing  with  you  the  whole  time; 
and  it  is  a  great  comfort  to  me  to  have  such  con- 
fidence in  you  and  to  know  that  though  these 
creatures  can  cause  you  a  little  trouble  and  make 
you  feel  a  little  downcast,  they  can  not  drive  you 
one  way  or  the  other,  or  make  you  alter  the  course 
you  have  set  out  for  yourself. 
[137] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

We  were  all  of  us,  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  say, 
rather  blue  at  getting  back  in  the  White  House, 
simply  because  we  missed  Sagamore  Hill  so  much. 
But  it  is  very  beautiful  and  we  feel  very  ungrate- 
ful at  having  even  a  passing  fit  of  blueness,  and 
we  are  enjoying  it  to  the  full  now.  I  have  just 
seen  Archie  dragging  some  fifty  foot  of  hose  pipe 
across  the  tennis  court  to  play  in  the  sand-box. 
I  have  been  playing  tennis  with  Mr.  Pinchot,  who 
beat  me  three  sets  to  one,  the  only  deuce-set  being 
the  one  I  won. 

This  is  just  an  occasion  to  show  the  stuff  there 
IS  in  you.  Do  not  let  these  newspaper  creatures 
and  kindred  idiots  drive  you  one  hair's  breadth 
from  the  line  you  had  marked  out  in  football  or 
anything  else.     Avoid  any  fuss,  if  possible. 

Dear  Ted-  White  House,  October  11,  1905. 

I  was  delighted  to  find  from  your  last  letters 
that  you  are  evidently  having  a  pretty  good  time 
in  spite  of  the  newspaper  and  kodak  creatures.  I 
guess  that  nuisance  is  now  pretty  well  abated. 
Every  now  and  then  they  will  do  something  hor- 

[  138  ] 


FOOTBALL  AND  POLO 


rid;  but  I  think  you  can  safely,  from  now  on, 
ignore  them  entirely. 

I  shall  be  interested  to  hear  how  you  get  on, 
first  of  all  with  your  studies,  in  which  you  seem 
to  have  started  well,  and  next  with  football.  I 
expected  that  you  would  find  it  hard  to  compete 
with  the  other  candidates  for  the  position  of  end, 
as  they  are  mostly  heavier  than  you;  especially 
since  you  went  off  in  weight  owing  to  the  excite- 
ment of  your  last  weeks  of  holdiay  in  the  sum- 
mer. Of  course  the  fact  that  you  are  compara- 
tively light  tells  against  you  and  gives  you  a  good 
deal  to  overcome;  and  undoubtedly  it  was  from 
this  standpoint  not  a  good  thing  that  you  were 
unable  to  lead  a  quieter  life  toward  the  end  of 
your  stay  at  Oyster  Bay. 

So  it  is  about  the  polo  club.  In  my  day  we 
looked  with  suspicion  upon  all  freshman  societies, 
and  the  men  who  tried  to  get  them  up  or  were 
prominent  in  them  rarely  amounted  to  much  in 
the  class  afterwards;  and  it  has  happened  that  I 
have  heard  rather  unfavorably  of  the  polo  club. 
But  it  may  be  mere  accident  that  I  have  thus 
[139] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

heard  unfavorably  about  it,  and  in  thirty  years 
the  attitude  of  the  best  fellows  in  college  to  such 
a  thing  as  a  freshman  club  may  have  changed  so 
absolutely  that  my  experience  can  be  of  no  value. 
Exercise  your  own  best  judgment  and  form  some 
idea  of  what  the  really  best  fellows  in  the  class 
think  on  the  subject.  Do  not  make  the  mistake 
of  thinking  that  the  men  who  are  merely  undevel- 
oped are  really  the  best  fellows,  no  matter  how 
pleasant  and  agreeable  they  are  or  how  popular. 
Popularity  is  a  good  thing,  but  it  is  not  something 
for  which  to  sacrifice  studies  or  athletics  or  good 
standing  in  any  way;  and  sometimes  to  seek  it 
overmuch  is  to  lose  it.  I  do  not  mean  this  as 
applying  to  you,  but  as  applying  to  certain  men 
who  still  have  a  great  vogue  at  first  in  the  class, 
and  of  whom  you  will  naturally  tend  to  think 
pretty  well. 

In  all  these  things  I  can  only  advise  you  in  a 
very  general  way.  You  are  on  the  ground.  You 
know  the  men  and  the  general  college  sentiment. 
You  have  gone  in  with  the  serious  purpose  of 
doing  decently  and  honorably ;  of  standing'  well  in 
[140] 


DIVE   THROUGH  A  WINDOW 

your  studies;  of  showing  that  in  athletics  you 
mean  business  up  to  the  extent  of  your  capacity, 
and  of  getting  the  respect  and  liking  of  your  class- 
mates so  far  as  they  can  be  legitimately  obtained. 
As  to  the  exact  methods  of  carrying  out  these 
objects,  I  must  trust  to  you. 

INCIDENTS   OF   A   SOUTHERN   TRIP 

Dk^r  Kermit:  "^'^  ^^^^^'  N^^-  ^'  1^^^- 

I  had  a  great  time  in  the  South,  and  it  was 
very  nice  indeed  having  Mr.  John  Mcllhenny  and 
Mr.  John  Greenway  with  me.  Of  course  I  en- 
joyed most  the  three  days  when  Mother  was 
there.  But  I  was  so  well  received  and  had  so 
many  things  to  say  which  I  was  really  glad  to 
say,  that  the  whole  trip  was  a  success.  When  I 
left  New  Orleans  on  the  little  lighthouse  tender 
to  go  down  to  the  gulf  where  the  big  war  ship  was 
awaiting  me,  we  had  a  collision.  I  was  stand- 
ing up  at  the  time  and  the  shock  pitched  me  for- 
ward so  that  I  dove  right  through  the  window, 
taking  the  glass  all  out  except  a  jagged  rim  round 
[141] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

the  very  edge.  But  I  went  through  so  quickly 
that  I  received  only  some  minute  scratches  on  my 
face  and  hands  which,  however,  bled  pretty  freely. 
I  was  very  glad  to  come  up  the  coast  on  the 
squadron  of  great  armored  cruisers. 

In  the  gulf  the  weather  was  hot  and  calm,  but 
soon  after  rounding  Florida  and  heading  north- 
ward we  ran  into  a  gale.  Admiral  Brownson  is  a 
regular  little  gamecock  and  he  drove  the  vessels 
to  their  limit.  It  was  great  fun  to  see  the  huge 
warcraft  pounding  steadily  into  the  gale  and  forg- 
ing onward  through  the  billows.  Some  of  the 
waves  were  so  high  that  the  water  came  green 
over  the  flying  bridge  forward,  and  some  of  the 
officers  were  thrown  down  and  badly  bruised. 
One  of  the  other  ships  lost  a  man  overboard,  and 
although  we  hunted  for  him  an  hour  and  a  half 
we  could  not  get  him,  and  had  a  boat  smashed  in 
the  endeavor. 

When  I  got  back  here  I  found  sister,  very  inter- 
esting about  her  Eastern  trip.  She  has  had  a 
great  time,  and  what  is  more,  she  has  behaved 
mighty  well  under  rather  trying  circumstances. 
[142] 


S]MALL  BOY  SPORTS 


Ethel  was  a  dear,  as  always,  and  the  two  little 
boys  were  as  cunning  as  possible.  Sister  had 
brought  them  some  very  small  Japanese  fencing 
armor,  which  they  had  of  course  put  on  with 
glee,  and  were  clumsily  fencing  with  wooden  two- 
handed  swords.  And  they  had  also  rigged  up  in 
the  dark  nursery  a  grewsome  man  with  a  pumpkin 
head,  which  I  was  ushered  in  to  see,  and  in  addi- 
tion to  the  regular  eyes,  nose,  and  saw-tooth 
mouth,  Archie  had  carved  in  the  back  of  the 
pumpkin  the  words  "Pumpkin  Giant,"  the  can- 
dle inside  illuminating  it  beautifully.  Mother  was 
waiting  for  me  at  the  Navy  Yard,  looking  too 
pretty  for  anything,  when  I  arrived.  She  and  I 
had  a  ride  this  afternoon.  Of  course  I  am  up  to 
my  ears  in  work. 

The  mornings  are  lovely  now,  crisp  and  fresh; 
after  breakfast  Mother  and  I  walk  around  the 
grounds  accompanied  by  Skip,  and  also  by  Slip- 
per, her  bell  tinkling  loudly.  The  gardens  are 
pretty  dishevelled  now,  but  the  flowers  that  are 
left  are  still  lovely;  even  yet  some  honeysuckle  is 
blooming  on  the  porch. 

[143  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

POETS  AND  PRINCES 
_  „  White  House,  November  6,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Just  a  line,  for  I  really  have  nothing  to  say  this 
week.  I  have  caught  up  with  my  work.  One 
day  we  had  a  rather  forlorn  little  poet  and  his  nice 
wife  in  at  lunch.  They  made  me  feel  quite  badly 
by  being  so  grateful  at  my  having  mentioned  him 
in  what  I  fear  was  a  very  patronizing  and,  indeed, 
almost  supercilious  way,  as  having  written  an 
occasional  good  poem.  I  am  much  struck  by 
Robinson's  two  poems  which  you  sent  Mother. 
What  a  queer,  mystical  creature  he  is !  I  did  not 
understand  one  of  them — that  about  the  gardens 
— and  I  do  not  know  that  I  like  either  of  them 
quite  as  much  as  some  of  those  in  "The  Children 
of  the  Night."  But  he  certainly  has  got  the  real 
spirit  of  poetry  in  him.  Whether  he  can  make  it 
come  out  I  am  not  quite  sure. 

Prince  Louis  of  Battenberg  has  been  here  and 
I  have  been  very  much  pleased  with  him.  He  is 
a  really  good  admiral,  and  in  addition  he  is  a  well- 
read  and  cultivated  man  and  it  was  charming  to 
[144] 


CURIOUS  DINNER  COMPANIONS 

talk  with  him.  We  had  him  and  his  nephew. 
Prince  Alexander,  a  midshipman,  to  lunch  alone 
with  us,  and  we  really  enjoyed  having  them.  At 
the  State  dinner  he  sat  between  me  and  Bona- 
parte, and  I  could  not  help  smiling  to  myself  in 
thinking  that  here  was  this  British  Admiral  seated 
beside  the  American  Secretary  of  the  Navy — the 
American  Secretary  of  the  Navy  being  the  grand- 
nephew  of  Napoleon  and  the  grandson  of  Jerome, 
King  of  Westphalia;  while  the  British  Admiral 
was  the  grandson  of  a  Hessian  general  who  was 
the  subject  of  King  Jerome  and  served  under  Na- 
poleon, and  then,  by  no  means  creditably,  deserted 
him  in  the  middle  of  the  Battle  of  Leipsic. 
I  am  oflP  to  vote  to-night. 

NOVELS  AND   GAMES 
■rx  t;^  WTiite  House,  November  19,  1905. 

Dear  Kermit: 

I  sympathize  with  every  word  you  say  in  your 

letter,  about  Nicholas  Nickleby,  and  about  novels 

generally.     Normally  I  only  care  for  a  novel  if 

the  ending  is  good,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you 

[145] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

that  if  the  hero  has  to  die  he  ought  to  die  worthily 
and  nobly,  so  that  our  sorrow  at  the  tragedy  shall 
be  tempered  with  the  joy  and  pride  one  always 
feels  when  a  man  does  his  duty  well  and  bravely. 
There  is  quite  enough  sorrow  and  shame  and  suf- 
fering and  baseness  in  real  life,  and  there  is  no 
need  for  meeting  it  unnecessarily  in  fiction.  As 
Police  Commissioner  it  was  my  duty  to  deal  with 
all  kinds  of  squalid  misery  and  hideous  and  un- 
speakable infamy,  and  I  should  have  been  worse 
than  a  coward  if  I  had  shrunk  from  doing  what 
was  necessary;  but  there  would  have  been  no  use 
whatever  in  my  reading  novels  detailing  all  this 
misery  and  squalor  and  crime,  or  at  least  in  read- 
ing them  as  a  steady  thing.  Now  and  then  there 
is  a  powerful  but  sad  story  which  really  is  inter- 
esting and  which  really  does  good;  but  normally 
the  books  which  do  good  and  the  books  which 
healthy  people  find  interesting  are  those  which 
are  not  in  the  least  of  the  sugar-candy  variety, 
but  which,  while  portraying  foulness  and  suffer- 
ing when  they  must  be  portrayed,  yet  have  a 
joyous  as  well  as  a  noble  side. 

[  146  ] 


LION  AND  HYENA  STORIES 

We  have  had  a  very  mild  and  open  fall.  I 
have  played  tennis  a  good  deal,  the  French  Am- 
bassador being  now  quite  a  steady  playmate,  as 
he  and  I  play  about  alike;  and  I  have  ridden  with 
Mother  a  great  deal.  Last  Monday  when  Mother 
had  gone  to  New  York  I  had  Selous,  the  great 
African  hunter,  to  spend  the  day  and  night.  He 
is  a  perfect  old  dear;  just  as  simple  and  natural 
as  can  be  and  very  interesting.  I  took  him,  with 
Bob  Bacon,  Gifford  Pinchot,  Ambassador  Meyer 
and  Jim  Garfield,  for  a  good  scramble  and  climb 
in  the  afternoon,  and  they  all  came  to  dinner 
afterwards.  Before  we  came  down  to  dinner  I 
got  him  to  spend  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in 
telling  delightfully  exciting  lion  and  hyena  stories 
to  Ethel,  Archie  and  Quentin.  He  told  them  most 
vividly  and  so  enthralled  the  little  boys  that  the 
next  evening  I  had  to  tell  them  a  large  number 
myself. 

To-day  is  Quentin's  birthday  and  he  loved  his 

gifts,  perhaps  most  of  all  the  weest,  cunningest 

live  pig  you  ever  saw,  presented  him  by  Straus. 

Phil  Stewart  and  his  wife  and  boy,  Wolcott  (who 

[147] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

is  Archie's  age),  spent  a  couple  of  nights  here. 
One  afternoon  we  had  hide-and-go-seek,  bringing 
down  Mr.  Garfield  and  the  Garfield  boys,  and 
Archie  turning  up  with  the  entire  football  team, 
who  took  a  day  off  for  the  special  purpose.  We 
had  obstacle  races,  hide-and-go-seek,  blind-man's 
buff,  and  everything  else;  and  there  were  times 
when  I  felt  that  there  was  a  perfect  shoal  of  small 
boys  bursting  in  every  direction  up  and  down 
stairs,  and  through  and  over  every  conceivable 
object. 

Mother  and  I  still  walk  around  the  grounds 
every  day  after  breakfast.  The  gardens,  of  course, 
are  very,  very  dishevelled  now,  the  snap-dragons 
holding  out  better  than  any  other  flowers. 

CHRISTMAS   PRESENT   TO   HIS   OLD   NURSE 

{To  Mrs.  Dora  Watkins) 

_  _  White  House,  December  19,  1905. 

Dear  Dolly: 

I  wish  you  a  merry  Christmas,  and  want  you  to 
buy  whatever  you  think  you  would  like  with  the 
enclosed  check  for  twenty  dollars.  It  is  now  just 
[148] 


WINTER  SPORTS 


forty  years  since  you  stopped  being  my  nurse, 
when  I  was  a  little  boy  of  seven,  just  one  year 
younger  than  Quentin  now  is. 

I  wish  you  could  see  the  children  play  here  in 
the  White  House  grounds.  For  the  last  three 
days  there  has  been  snow,  and  Archie  and  Quentin 
and  their  cousin,  cunning  little  Sheffield  Cowles, 
and  their  other  cousin,  Mr.  John  Elliott's  little 
girl,  Helena,  who  is  a  perfect  little  dear,  have  been 
having  all  kinds  of  romps  in  the  snow — coasting, 
having  snowball  fights,  and  doing  everything — in 
the  grounds  back  of  the  White  House.  This  com- 
ing Saturday  afternoon  I  have  agreed  to  have  a 
great  play  of  hide-and-go-seek  in  the  White  House 
itself,  not  only  with  these  children  but  with  their 
various  small  friends. 


DICKENS  AND   THACKERAY 
T^  T^  WTiite  House,  February  3,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

I  agree  pretty  well  with  your  views  of  David 
Copperfield.     Dora  was  very  cunning  and  attrac- 
tive, but  I  am  not  sure  that  the  husband  would 
[149] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

retain  enough  respect  for  her  to  make  life  quite 
what  it  ought  to  be  with  her.  This  is  a  harsh 
criticism  and  I  have  known  plenty  of  women  of 
the  Dora  type  whom  I  have  felt  were  a  good  deal 
better  than  the  men  they  married,  and  I  have 
seen  them  sometimes  make  very  happy  homes.  I 
also  feel  as  you  do  that  if  a  man  had  to  struggle 
on  and  make  his  way  it  would  be  a  great  deal 
better  to  have  some  one  like  Sophie.  Do  you 
recollect  that  dinner  at  which  David  Copperfield 
and  Traddles  were,  where  they  are  described  as 
seated  at  the  dinner,  one  "in  the  glare  of  the  red 
velvet  lady"  and  the  other  "in  the  gloom  of 
Hamlet's  aunt".'^  I  am  so  glad  you  like  Thack- 
eray. "Pendennis"  and  "The  Newcomes"  and 
"Vanity  Fair"  I  can  read  over  and  over  again. 

Ted  blew  in  to-day.  I  thinlv  he  has  been 
studying  pretty  well  this  term  and  now  he  is 
through  all  his  examinations  but  one.  He  hopes, 
and  I  do,  that  you  will  pay  what  attention  you 
can  to  athletics.  Play  hockey,  for  instance,  and 
try  to  get  into  shape  for  the  mile  run.  I  know  it 
is  too  short  a  distance  for  you,  but  if  you  will  try 
[  150  ] 


PROUD  OF  ARCHIE'S  ACT 

for  the  hare  and  hounds  running  and  the  mile, 
too,  you  may  be  able  to  try  for  the  two  miles 
when  you  go  to  Harvard. 

The  weather  was  very  mild  early  in  the  week. 
It  has  turned  cold  now;  but  Mother  and  I  had  a 
good  ride  yesterday,  and  Ted  and  I  a  good  ride 
this  afternoon,  Ted  on  Grey  Dawn.  We  have 
been  having  a  perfect  whirl  of  dinner  engage- 
ments; but  thank  heavens  they  will  stop  shortly 
after  Sister's  wedding. 

A   TRIBUTE   TO   ARCHIE 
T^  -^,  White  House,  March  11,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

I  agree  pretty  much  to  all  your  views  both 
about  Thackeray  and  Dickens,  although  you  care 
for  some  of  Thackeray  of  which  I  am  not  person- 
ally fond.  Mother  loves  it  all.  Mother,  by  the 
way,  has  been  reading  "The  Legend  of  Montrose" 
to  the  little  boys  and  they  are  absorbed  in  it. 
She  finds  it  hard  to  get  anything  that  will  appeal 
to  both  Archie  and  Quentin,  as  they  possess  such 
different  natures. 

[151] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

I  am  quite  proud  of  what  Archie  did  the  day 
before  yesterday.  Some  of  the  bigger  boys  were 
throwing  a  baseball  around  outside  of  Mr.  Sid- 
well's  school  and  it  hit  one  of  them  square  in  the 
eye,  breaking  all  the  blood-vessels  and  making 
an  extremely  dangerous  hurt.  The  other  boys 
were  all  rattled  and  could  do  nothing,  finally 
sneaking  off  when  Mr.  Sid  well  appeared.  Archie 
stood  by  and  himself  promptly  suggested  that  the 
boy  should  go  to  Dr.  Wilmer.  Accordingly  he 
scorched  down  to  Dr.  Wilmer's  and  said  there  was 
an  emergency  case  for  one  of  ^Ir.  Sid  well's  boys, 
who  was  hurt  in  the  eye,  and  could  he  bring  him. 
Dr.  Wilmer,  who  did  not  know  Archie  was  there, 
sent  out  word  to  of  course  do  so.  So  Archie 
scorched  back  on  his  wheel,  got  the  boy  (I  do  not 
know  why  Mr.  Sidwell  did  not  take  him  himself) 
and  led  him  down  to  Dr.  Wilmer's,  who  attended 
to  his  eye  and  had  to  send  him  at  once  to  a  hos- 
pital, Archie  waiting  until  he  heard  the  result  and 
then  coming  home.  Dr.  Wilmer  told  me  about 
it  and  said  if  Archie  had  not  acted  with  such 
promptness  the  boy  (who  was  four  or  five  years 
[  152] 


THE  HEAVENLY  SANDBOX 

older  than  Archie,  by  the  way)  would  have  lost 
his  sight. 

What  a  heavenly  place  a  sandbox  is  for  two 
little  boys !  Archie  and  Quentin  play  indus- 
triously in  it  during  most  of  their  spare  moments 
when  out  in  the  grounds.  I  often  look  out  of  the 
office  windows  when  I  have  a  score  of  Senators 
and  Congressmen  with  me  and  see  them  both 
hard  at  work  arranging  caverns  or  mountains, 
with  runways  for  their  marbles. 

Good-bye,  blessed  fellow.  I  shall  think  of  you 
very  often  during  the  coming  week,  and  I  am  so 
very  glad  that  Mother  is  to  be  with  you  at  your 
confirmation. 

PILLOW   FIGHTS   WITH    THE   BOYS 

-p.  -r^  TMiite  House,  March  19,  1906. 

Darling  Kermit: 

During  the  four  days  Mother  was  away  I  made 

a  point  of  seeing  the  children  each  evening  for 

three-quarters    of    an    hour    or    so.     Archie    and 

Quentin  are  really  great  playmates.     One  night 

ri53l 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

I  came  up-stairs  and  found  Quentin  playing 
the  pianola  as  hard  as  he  could,  while  Archie 
would  suddenly  start  from  the  end  of  the  hall 
where  the  pianola  was,  and,  accompanied  by  both 
the  dogs,  race  as  hard  as  he  could  the  whole 
length  of  the  White  House  clean  to  the  other 
end  of  the  hall  and  then  tear  back  again.  An- 
other evening  as  I  came  up-stairs  I  found  Archie 
and  Quentin  having  a  great  play,  chuckling  with 
laughter,  Archie  driving  Quentin  by  his  suspend- 
ers, which  were  fixed  to  the  end  of  a  pair  of 
woollen  reins.  Then  they  would  ambush  me  and 
we  would  have  a  vigorous  pillow-fight,  and  after 
five  or  ten  minutes  of  this  we  would  go  into 
Mother's  room,  and  I  would  read  them  the  book 
Mother  had  been  reading  them,  "The  Legend 
of  Montrose."  We  just  got  through  it  the  very 
last  evening.  Both  Skip  and  Jack  have  welcomed 
Mother  back  with  frantic  joy,  and  this  morning 
came  in  and  lay  on  her  bed  as  soon  as  she  had 
finished  breakfast — for  she  did  not  come  down  to 
either  breakfast  or  lunch,  as  she  is  going  to  spend 
the  night  at  Baltimore  with  tlie  Bonapartes. 
[154] 


LONELY  LITTLE  SKIP 


I  was  so  interested  in  your  reading  "Phineas 
Finn"  that  I  ordered  a  copy  myself.  I  have  also 
ordered  DeQuincey's  works,  as  I  find  we  have  not 
got  them  at  the  White  House. 


SORROWS   OF   SKIP 

Darling  Archie:  ^'*«  House,  AprU  1, 1906. 

Poor  Skip  is  a  very,  very  lonely  little  dog  with- 
out his  family.  Each  morning  he  comes  up  to 
see  me  at  breakfast  time  and  during  most  of 
breakfast  (which  I  take  in  the  hall  just  outside 
my  room)  Skip  stands  with  his  little  paws  on  my 
lap.  Then  when  I  get  through  and  sit  down  in 
the  rocking-chair  to  read  for  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  Skip  hops  into  my  lap  and  stays  there, 
just  bathing  himself  in  the  companionship  of  the 
only  one  of  his  family  he  has  left.  The  rest  of  the 
day  he  spends  with  the  ushers,  as  I  am  so  fright- 
fully busy  that  I  am  nowhere  long  enough  for 
Skip  to  have  any  real  satisfaction  in  my  com- 
panionship. Poor  Jack  has  never  come  home. 
We  may  never  know  what  became  of  him. 
[155] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

"an  interesting  circus  experience" 

Tx  T^  White  House,  April  1,  1906. 

Darling  Ethel: 

I  haven't  heard  a  word  from  the  two  new  horses, 
and  I  rather  believe  that  if  there  had  been  any 
marked  improvement  in  either  of  them  I  should 
have  heard.  I  gather  that  one  at  least  and  prob- 
ably both  would  be  all  right  for  me  if  I  were 
twenty  years  younger,  and  would  probably  be  all 
right  for  Ted  now;  but  of  course  as  things  are  at 
present  I  do  not  want  a  horse  with  which  I  have 
an  interesting  circus  experience  whenever  we  meet 
an  automobile,  or  one  which  I  cannot  get  to  go  in 
any  particular  direction  without  devoting  an  hour 
or  two  to  the  job.  So  that  it  looks  as  if  old  Rusty 
would  be  good  enough  for  me  for  some  time  to 
come.  I  am  going  out  on  him  with  Senator 
Lodge  this  afternoon,  and  he  will  be  all  right  and 
as  fresh  as  paint,  for  he  has  been  three  days  in 
the  stable.  But  to-day  is  just  a  glorious  spring 
day — March  having  ended  as  it  began,  with  rain 
and  snow — and  I  will  have  a  good  ride.  I  miss 
Mother  and  you  children  very  much,  of  course, 
[156] 


WHITE  HOUSE  SOLITUDE 


but  I  believe  you  are  having  a  good  time,  and  I 
am  really  glad  you  are  to  see  Havana. 

A   BIG  AND   LONELY  WHITE   HOUSE 

White  House,  April  1,  1906. 

Darling  Quenty-quee: 

Slipper  and  the  kittens  are  doing  finely.  I 
think  the  kittens  will  be  big  enough  for  you  to 
pet  and  have  some  satisfaction  out  of  when  you 
get  home,  although  they  will  be  pretty  young  still. 
I  miss  you  all  dreadfully,  and  the  house  feels  big 
and  lonely  and  full  of  echoes  with  nobody  but  me 
in  it;  and  I  do  not  hear  any  small  scamps  running 
up  and  down  the  hall  just  as  hard  as  they  can;  or 
hear  their  voices  while  I  am  dressing;  or  suddenly 
look  out  through  the  windows  of  the  office  at  the 
tennis  ground  and  see  them  racing  over  it  or  play- 
ing in  the  sand-box.     I  love  you  very  much. 

a  new  puppy  and  a  new  horse 
Dear  Kermit:  ^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^P"^  ^^'  ^^^^• 

Last  night  I  played  "tickley"  in  their  room 
[157] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREX 

with  the  two  little  boys.  As  we  rolled  and 
bounced  over  all  three  beds  in  the  course  of  the 
plav,  not  to  mention  frantic  chases  under  them,  I 
think  poor  Mademoiselle  was  rather  appalled  at 
the  result  when  we  had  finished.  Archie's  seven- 
weeks-old  St,  Bernard  puppv  has  come  and  it  is 
the  dearest  puppv  imaginable;  a  huge,  soft  thing, 
which  Archie  carries  around  in  his  arms  and 
which  the  whole  family  love. 

Yesterday  I  took  a  first  ride  on  the  new  horse, 
Roswell,  Captain  Lee  going  along  on  Rusty  as  a 
kind  of  a  nurse.  Roswell  is  not  yet  four  and  he 
is  really  a  green  colt  and  not  quite  the  horse  I 
want  at  present,  as  I  haven't  time  to  fuss  with 
him,  and  am  afraid  of  letting  the  Sergeant  ride 
him,  as  he  does  not  get  on  well  with  him,  and 
there  is  nobody  else  in  our  stable  that  can  ride  at 
all.  He  is  a  beautiful  horse,  a  wonderful  jumper, 
and  does  not  pull  at  all.  He  shies  pretty  badly, 
especially  when  he  meets  an  automobile;  and 
when  he  leaves  the  stable  or  strikes  a  road  that 
he  thinks  will  take  him  home  and  is  not  allowed 
to  go  down  it,  he  is  apt  to  rear,  which  I  do  not 
like;  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  will  get 

[158] 


SPRING  BIRDS  AXD  BLOOMS 

over  these  traits,  and  if  I  can  arrange  to  have  Lee 
handle  him  a  couple  of  months  more,  and  if  Ted 
and  I  can  regularly  ride  him  down  at  Oyster 
Bay,  I  think  that  he  will  turn  out  all  right. 

Mother  and  I  walk  ever^'  morning  through  the 
grounds,  which,  of  course,  are  lovely.  Xot  onlj^ 
are  the  song-sparrows  and  robins  singing,  but  the 
white-throated  sparrows,  who  will,  I  suppose,  soon 
leave  us  for  the  North,  are  still  in  full  song,  and 
this  morning  they  waked  us  up  at  daybreak  sing- 
ing just  outside  the  window. 

A   QUENTIN  ANECDOTE 

_  ^^  ^Miite  House,  AprH  22,  1906. 

Dkar  Kermit: 

Ted  has  been  as  good  and  cunning  as  possible. 

He  has  completely  recovered  from  the  efiFects  of 

ha%4ng  his  eye  operated  upon,  and  though  the  eye 

itself  is  a  somewhat  gruesome  object,  Ted  is  in 

the  highest  spirits.     He  goes  back  to  Harvard 

to-day. 

As  I  write,  Archie  and  Quentin  are  busily  en- 
gaged in  the  sand-box  and  I  look  out  across  the 
f  159  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

— 1 

tennis-ground  at  them.  If  ever  there  was  a 
heaven-sent  treasure  to  small  boys,  that  sand-box 
is  the  treasure.  It  was  very  cunning  to  see  the 
delight  various  little  children  took  in  it  at  the 
egg-rolling  on  Easter  Monday.  Thanks  to  our 
decision  in  keeping  out  grown  people  and  stop- 
ping everything  at  one  o'clock,  the  egg-rolling 
really  was  a  children's  festival,  and  was  pretty 
and  not  objectionable  this  year. 

The  apple  trees  are  now  coming  into  bloom, 
including  that  big  arched  apple  tree,  under  which 
Mother  and  I  sit,  by  the  fountain,  on  the  stone 
bench.  It  is  the  apple  tree  that  Mother  particu- 
larly likes.  .  .  . 

Did  Quentin  write  his  poems  after  you  had 
gone.^^  I  never  can  recollect  whether  you  have 
seen  them  or  not.  He  is  a  funny  small  person  if 
ever  there  was  one.  The  other  day  we  were  dis- 
cussing a  really  dreadful  accident  which  had  hap- 
pened; a  Georgetown  young  man  having  taken 
out  a  young  girl  in  a  canoe  on  the  river,  the  canoe 
upset  and  the  girl  was  drowned;  whereupon  the 
young  man,  when  he  got  home,  took  what  seemed 
to  us  an  exceedingly  cold-blooded  method  of  a 
[160] 


QUENTIN'S  PRACTICAL  VIEW 

special  delivery  letter  to  notify  her  parents.  We 
were  expressing  our  horror  at  his  sending  a  special 
delivery  letter,  and  Quentin  solemnly  chimed  in 
with  "Yes,  he  wasted  ten  cents."  There  was  a 
moment's  eloquent  silence,  and  then  we  strove  to 
explain  to  Quentin  that  what  we  were  objecting 
to  was  not  in  the  least  the  young  man's  spend- 
thrift attitude ! 

As  I  walk  to  and  from  the  oflSce  now  the  ter- 
race is  fairly  fragrant  with  the  scent  of  the  many- 
colored  hyacinths  which  Mother  has  put  out  in 
boxes  on  the  low  stone  walls. 


A  VISIT   TO  WASHINGTON  S   BIRTHPLACE 

Dear  Kermit:  "^^'^  ^^"^^>  ^p^^^  ^^'  i^^^' 

On  Saturday  afternoon  Mother  and  I  started 
off  on  the  Sylph,  Mother  having  made  up  her 
mind  I  needed  thirty -six  hours'  rest,  and  we  had 
a  delightful  time  together,  and  she  was  just  as 
cunning  as  she  could  be.  On  Sunday  Mother  and 
I  spent  about  four  hours  ashore,  taking  our  lunch 
and  walking  up  to  the  monument  which  marks 
where  the  house  stood  in  which  Washington  was 
[161] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

born.  It  is  a  simple  shaft.  Every  vestige  of  the 
house  is  destroyed,  but  a  curious  and  rather 
pathetic  thing  is  that,  although  it  must  be  a  hun- 
dred years  since  the  place  was  deserted,  there  are 
still  multitudes  of  flowers  which  must  have  come 
from  those  in  the  old  garden.  There  are  iris  and 
narcissus  and  a  little  blue  flower,  with  a  neat, 
prim,  clean  smell  that  makes  one  feel  as  if  it  ought 
to  be  put  with  lavender  into  chests  of  fresh  old 
linen.  The  narcissus  in  particular  was  growing 
around  everywhere,  together  with  real  wild  flow- 
ers like  the  painted  columbine  and  star  of  Bethle- 
hem. It  was  a  lovely  spot  on  a  headland  over- 
looking a  broad  inlet  from  the  Potomac.  There 
was  also  the  old  graveyard  or  grave  plot  in  which 
were  the  gravestones  of  Washington's  father  and 
mother  and  grandmother,  all  pretty  nearly  ruined. 
It  was  lovely  warm  weather  and  Mother  and  I 
enjoyed  our  walk  through  the  funny  lonely  old 
country.  Mocking-birds,  meadow-larks,  Carolina 
wrens,  cardinals,  and  field  sparrows  were  singing 
cheerfully.  We  came  up  the  river  in  time  to  get 
home  last  evening.  This  morning  Mother  and  I 
walked  around  the  White  House  grounds  as  usual, 
f  162  1 


LOVE  OF  FLOWERS 


I  think  I  get  more  fond  of  flowers  every  year. 
The  grounds  are  now  at  that  high  stage  of  beauty 
in  which  they  will  stay  for  the  next  two  months. 
The  buckeyes  are  in  bloom,  the  pink  dogwood, 
and  the  fragrant  lilacs,  which  are  almost  the  love- 
liest of  the  bushes;  and  then  the  flowers,  including 
the  lily -of -the- valley. 

I  am  dictating  in  the  office.  Archie  is  out  by 
the  sandbox  playing  with  the  hose.  The  playing 
consists  in  brandishing  it  around  his  head  and 
trying  to  escape  the  falling  water.  He  escapes 
about  twice  out  of  three  times  and  must  now  be  a 
perfect  drowned  rat.  (I  have  just  had  him  in  to 
look  at  him  and  he  is  even  more  of  a  drowned  rat 
than  I  supposed.  He  has  gone  out  to  complete 
his  shower  bath  under  strict  promise  that  imme- 
diately afterwards  he  will  go  in  and  change  his 
clothes.) 

Quentin  is  the  funniest  mite  you  ever  saw  and 
certainly  a  very  original  little  fellow.  He  left  at 
Mademoiselle's  plate  yesterday  a  large  bunch  of 
flowers  with  the  inscription  that  they  were  from 
the  fairies  to  her  to  reward  her  for  taking  care  of 
"two  goody  good  boys."  Ethel  is  a  dear. 
[  163  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

MORE  ABOUT   DICKENS 
p.  r^      ^  White  House,  May  20,  1906. 

Mother  read  us  your  note  and  I  was  interested 

in  the  discussion  between  you  and  over 

Dickens.  Dickens'  characters  are  really  to  a  great 
extent  personified  attributes  rather  than  individ- 
uals. In  consequence,  while  there  are  not  nearly 
as  many  who  are  actually  like  people  one  meets, 
as  for  instance  in  Thackeray,  there  are  a  great 
many  more  who  possess  characteristics  which  we 
encounter  continually,  though  rarely  as  strongly 
developed  as  in  the  fictional  originals.  So  Dick- 
ens' characters  last  almost  as  Bunyan's  do.  For 
instance,  Jefferson  Brick  and  Elijah  Pogram  and 
Hannibal  Chollop  are  all  real  personifications  of 
certain  bad  tendencies  in  American  life,  and  I  am 
continually  thinking  of  or  alluding  to  some  news- 
paper editor  or  Senator  or  homicidal  rowdy  by 
one  of  these  three  names.  I  never  met  any  one 
exactly  like  Uriah  Heep,  but  now  and  then  we 
see  individuals  show  traits  which  make  it  easy  to 
describe  them,  with  reference  to  those  traits,  as 
Uriah  Heep.  It  is  just  the  same  with  Micawber. 
[164] 


LOVE  FOR  SAGAMORE  HILL 

Mrs.  Nickleby  is  not  quite  a  real  person,  but  she 
typifies,  in  accentuated  form,  traits  which  a  great 
many  real  persons  possess,  and  I  am  continually 
thinking  of  her  when  I  meet  them.  There  are 
half  a  dozen  books  of  Dickens  which  have,  I 
think,  furnished  more  characters  which  are  the 
constant  companions  of  the  ordinary  educated 
man  around  us,  than  is  true  of  any  other  half- 
dozen  volumes  published  within  the  same  period. 

NO   PLACE   LIKE   SAGAMORE   HILL 

{To  Ethel,  at  Sagamore  Hill) 

-,  ^  White  House,  June  11,  1906. 

Blessed  Ethel: 

I  am  very  glad  that  what  changes  have  been 

made  in  the  house  are  good,  and  I  look  forward 

so  eagerly  to  seeing  them.     After  all,  fond  as  I 

am  of  the  White  House  and  much  though  I  have 

appreciated  these  years  in  it,  there  isn't  any  place 

in  the  world  like  home — like  Sagamore  Hill,  where 

things  are  our  own,  with  our  own  associations, 

and  where  it  is  real  country. 


[165] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

ATTIC   DELIGHTS 
T^  T^  White  House,  June  17,  1906. 

Blessed  Ethel: 

Your  letter  delighted  me.  I  read  it  over  twice, 
and  chuckled  over  it.  By  George,  how  entirely  I 
sympathize  with  your  feelings  in  the  attic !  I 
know  just  what  it  is  to  get  up  into  such  a  place 
and  find  the  delightful,  winding  passages  where 
one  lay  hidden  with  thrills  of  criminal  delight, 
when  the  grownups  were  vainly  demanding  one's 
appearance  at  some  legitimate  and  abhorred 
function;  and  then  the  once-beloved  and  half- 
forgotten  treasures,  and  the  emotions  of  peace 
and  war,  with  reference  to  former  companions, 
which  they  recall. 

I  am  not  in  the  least  surprised  about  the  men- 
tal telepathy;  there  is  much  in  it  and  in  kindred 
things  which  are  real  and  which  at  present  we  do 
not  understand.  The  only  trouble  is  that  it 
usually  gets  mixed  up  with  all  kinds  of  fakes. 

I  am  glad  the  band  had  a  healthy  effect  in 
reviving  old  Bleistein's  youth.  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  intense  interest  in  life  he  always  used  to 
gain  when  we  encountered  an  Italian  with  a  bar- 
[166] 


A  KITTEN  IN  DISTRESS 


rel  organ  and  a  bear — a  combination  that  made 
Renown  seek  instant  refuge  in  attempted  suicide. 
I  am  really  pleased  that  you  are  going  to  teach 
Sunday  school.  I  think  I  told  you  that  I  taught 
it  for  seven  years,  most  of  the  time  in  a  mission 
class,  my  pupils  being  of  a  kind  which  furnished 
me  plenty  of  vigorous  excitement. 

PRESIDENTIAL  RESCUE   OF  A   KITTEN 
_.  „  White  House,  June  24,  1906. 

Darling  Ethel: 

To-day  as  I  was  marching  to  church,  with 
Sloane  some  25  yards  behind,  I  suddenly  saw  two 
terriers  racing  to  attack  a  kitten  which  was  walk- 
ing down  the  sidewalk.  I  bounced  forward  with 
my  umbrella,  and  after  some  active  work  put  to 
flight  the  dogs  while  Sloane  captured  the  kitten, 
which  was  a  friendly,  helpless  little  thing,  evi- 
dently too  well  accustomed  to  being  taken  care 
of  to  know  how  to  shift  for  itself.  I  inquired  of 
all  the  bystanders  and  of  people  on  the  neighbor- 
ing porches  to  know  if  they  knew  who  owned  it; 
but  as  they  all  disclaimed,  with  many  grins,  any 
knowledge  of  it,  I  marched  ahead  with  it  in  my 
[  167  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 


arms  for  about  half  a  block.  Then  I  saw  a  very 
nice  colored  woman  and  little  colored  girl  looking 
out  of  the  window  of  a  small  house  with  on  the 
door  a  dressmaker's  advertisement,  and  I  turned 
and  walked  up  the  steps  and  asked  if  they  did  not 
want  the  kitten.  They  said  they  did,  and  the 
little  girl  welcomed  it  lovingly;  so  I  felt  I  had  got- 
ten it  a  home  and  continued  toward  church. 

Has  the  lordly  Ted  turned  up  yet  ?  Is  his  lov- 
ing sister  able,  unassisted,  to  reduce  the  size  of 
his  head,  or  does  she  need  any  assistance  from 
her  male  parent  ? 

Your  affectionate  father, 


-^ 


[  168  ] 


■^^y/ 


THE   "WHY"  AND  ITS  CREW 

SPORTS    OF    QUENTIN    AND    ARCHIE 

^  -r^  Oyster  Bay,  Aug.  18,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Quentin  is  the  same  cheerful  pagan  philosopher 
as  ever.  He  swims  like  a  little  duck;  rides  well; 
stands  quite  severe  injuries  without  complaint, 
and  is  really  becoming  a  manly  little  fellow. 
Archie  is  devoted  to  the  Why  (sailboat).  The 
other  day  while  Mother  and  I  were  coming  in, 
rowing,  we  met  him  sailing  out,  and  it  was  too 
cunning  for  anything.  The  Why  looks  exactly 
like  a  little  black  wooden  shoe  with  a  sail  in  it, 
and  the  crew  consisted  of  Archie,  of  one  of  his 
beloved  playmates,  a  seaman  from  the  Sylph,  and 
of  Skip — very  alert  and  knowing. 

SKIP   AND   ARCHIE 
^  ^^  White  House,  October  23,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Archie  is  very  cunning  and  has  handicap  races 
with  Skip.     He  spreads  his  legs,  bends  over,  and 
holds  Skip  between  them.     Then  he  says,  "On 
[169] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

your  mark,  Skip,  ready;  go!"  and  shoves  Skip 
back  while  he  runs  as  hard  as  he  possibly  can  to 
the  other  end  of  the  hall,  Skip  scrambling  wildly 
with  his  paws  on  the  smooth  floor  until  he  can 
get  started,  when  he  races  after  Archie,  the  object 
being  for  Archie  to  reach  the  other  end  before 
Skip  can  overtake  him. 

A   TURKEY   HUNT   AT   PINE   KNOT 
TT^  ^^  White  House,  November  4,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Just  a  line  to  tell  you  what  a  nice  time  we  had 
at  Pine  Knot.  Mother  was  as  happy  as  she 
always  is  there,  and  as  cunning  and  pretty  as 
possible.  As  for  me,  I  hunted  faithfully  through 
all  three  days,  leaving  the  house  at  three  o'clock 
one  day,  at  four  the  next,  and  at  five  the  next,  so 
that  I  began  my  hunts  in  absolute  night;  but  for- 
tunately we  had  a  brilliant  moon  on  each  occa- 
sion. The  first  two  days  were  failures.  I  did 
not  see  a  turkey,  and  on  each  occasion  when 
everybody  was  perfectly  certain  that  I  was  going 
to  see  a  turkey,  something  went  wrong  and  the 
[170] 


WILD  TURKEY  HUNT 


turkey  did  not  turn  up.  The  last  day  I  was  out 
thirteen  hours,  and  you  may  imagine  how  hungry 
I  was  when  I  got  back,  not  to  speak  of  being 
tired;  though  fortunately  most  of  the  time  I  was 
rambling  around  on  horseback,  so  I  was  not  done 
out.  But  in  the  afternoon  at  last  luck  changed, 
and  then  for  once  everything  went  right.  The 
hunter  who  was  with  me  marked  a  turkey  in  a 
point  of  pines  stretching  down  from  a  forest  into 
an  open  valley,  with  another  forest  on  its  farther 
side.  I  ran  down  to  the  end  of  the  point  and  hid 
behind  a  bush.  He  walked  down  through  the 
pines  and  the  turkey  came  out  and  started  to  fly 
across  the  valley,  offering  me  a  beautiful  side  shot 
at  about  thirty -five  yards — just  the  distance  for 
my  ten-bore.  I  killed  it  dead,  and  felt  mighty 
happy  as  it  came  tumbling  down  through  the  air. 

In  November,  1906,  the  President,  accompanied 
by  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  went  to  the  Isthmus  of  Pan- 
ama, where  he  spent  three  days  in  inspecting  the 
work  of  building  the  Panama  Canal,  returning  by 
way  of  Porto  Rico.  The  journey  was  taken  on 
[171] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

the  naval  vessel  Louisiana,  and  many  of  his  let- 
ters to  the  children  were  written  while  on  board 
that  vessel  and  mailed  after  reaching  Colon. 

PETS  ON   SHIPBOAKD 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
On  the  Way  to  Panama. 
_  ^  Sunday,  November  11,  1906. 

Blessed  Quentin: 

You  would  be  amused  at  the  pets  they  have 
aboard  this  ship.  They  have  two  young  bull- 
dogs, a  cat,  three  little  raccoons,  and  a  tiny  Cuban 
goat.  They  seem  to  be  very  amicable  with  one 
another,  although  I  think  the  cat  has  suspicions 
of  all  the  rest.  The  coons  clamber  about  every- 
where, and  the  other  afternoon  while  I  was  sit- 
ting reading,  I  suddenly  felt  my  finger  seized  in  a 
pair  of  soft  black  paws  and  found  the  coon  sniffing 
at  it,  making  me  feel  a  little  uncomfortable  lest 
it  might  think  the  finger  something  good  to  eat. 
The  two  puppies  play  endlessly.  One  of  them 
belongs  to  Lieutenant  Evans.  The  crew  will  not 
be  allowed  ashore  at  Panama  or  else  I  know  they 
would  pick  up  a  whole  raft  of  other  pets  there. 
[172] 


BATTLESHIPS  AND  GUNS 


The  jackies  seem  especially  fond  of  the  little  coons. 
A  few  minutes  ago  I  saw  one  of  the  jackies  stroll- 
ing about  with  a  coon  perched  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  now  and  then  he  would  reach  up  his  hand 
and  give  it  a  small  piece  of  bread  to  eat. 

NAMES   OP  THE  GUNS 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
_.  .  Sunday,  November  11,  1906. 

Blessed  Archie: 

I  wish  you  were  along  with  us,  for  you  would 
thoroughly  enjoy  everything  on  this  ship.  We 
have  had  three  days  of  perfect  weather,  while  this 
great  battleship  with  her  two  convoys,  the  great 
armored  cruisers,  Tennessee  and  Washington,  have 
steamed  steadily  in  column  ahead  southward 
through  calm  seas  until  now  we  are  in  the  tropics. 
They  are  three  as  splendid  ships  of  their  class  as 
there  are  afloat,  save  only  the  English  Dread- 
naught.  The  Louisiana  now  has  her  gun-sights 
and  everything  is  all  in  good  shape  for  her  to 
begin  the  practice  of  the  duties  which  will  make 
her  crew  as  fit  for  man-of-war's  work  as  the  crew 
of  any  one  of  our  other  first-class  battleships. 
[173] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

The  men  are  such  splendid-looking  fellows,  Ameri- 
cans of  the  best  type,  young,  active,  vigorous, 
with  lots  of  intelligence.  I  was  much  amused  at 
the  names  of  the  seven-inch  guns,  which  in- 
clude Victor,  Invincible,  Peacemaker,  together  with 
Skidoo,  and  also  one  called  Tedd  and  one  called 
The  Big  Stick, 

REFLECTIONS   ON   THE   WAY 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
Dear  Kermit: 

So  far  this  trip  has  been  a  great  success,  and  I 
think  Mother  has  really  enjoyed  it.  As  for  me, 
I  of  course  feel  a  little  bored,  as  I  always  do  on 
shipboard,  but  I  have  brought  on  a  great  variety 
of  books,  and  am  at  this  moment  reading  Milton's 
prose  works,  "  Tacitus,'*  and  a  German  novel  called 
"Jorn  Uhl."  Mother  and  I  walk  briskly  up  and 
down  the  deck  together,  or  else  sit  aft  under  the 
awning,  or  in  the  after  cabin,  with  the  gun  ports  J 
open,  and  read;  and  I  also  spend  a  good  deal  of 
time  on  the  forward  bridge,  and  sometimes  on  the 
aft  bridge,  and  of  course  have  gone  over  the  ship 
[174] 


VOYAGING  IN  THE  TROPICS 

to  inspect  it  with  the  Captain.  It  is  a  splendid 
thing  to  see  one  of  these  men-of-war,  and  it  does 
really  make  one  proud  of  one's  country.  Both 
the  officers  and  the  enlisted  men  are  as  fine  a  set 
as  one  could  wish  to  see. 

It  is  a  beautiful  sight,  these  three  great  war- 
ships standing  southward  in  close  column,  and 
almost  as  beautiful  at  night  when  we  see  not  only 
the  lights  but  the  loom  through  the  darkness  of 
the  ships  astern.  We  are  now  in  the  tropics  and 
I  have  thought  a  good  deal  of  the  time  over  eight 
years  ago  when  I  was  sailing  to  Santiago  in  the 
fleet  of  warships  and  transports.  It  seems  a 
strange  thing  to  think  of  my  now  being  President, 
going  to  visit  the  work  of  the  Panama  Canal 
which  I  have  made  possible. 

Mother,  very  pretty  and  dainty  in  white  sum- 
mer clothes,  came  up  on  Sunday  morning  to  see 
inspection  and  review,  or  whatever  they  call  it, 
of  the  men.  I  usually  spend  half  an  hour  on 
deck  before  Mother  is  dressed.  Then  we  break- 
fast together  alone;  have  also  taken  lunch  alone, 
but  at  dinner  have  two  or  three  officers  to  dine 
[175] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

with  us.     Doctor  Rixey  is  along,  and  is  a  perfect 
dear,  as  always. 

EVENTS  SINCE   COLUMBUS's  DISCOVERY 

November  14th. 

The  fourth  day  out  was  in  some  respects  the 
most  interesting.  All  the  forenoon  we  had  Cuba 
on  our  right  and  most  of  the  forenoon  and  part  of 
the  afternoon  Hayti  on  our  left;  and  in  each  case 
green,  jungly  shores  and  bold  mountains — two 
great,  beautiful,  venomous  tropic  islands.  These 
are  historic  seas  and  Mother  and  I  have  kept 
thinking  of  all  that  has  happened  in  them  since 
Columbus  landed  at  San  Salvador  (which  we  also 
saw),  the  Spanish  explorers,  the  buccaneers,  the 
English  and  Dutch  sea-dogs  and  adventurers,  the 
great  English  and  French  fleets,  the  desperate 
fighting,  the  triumphs,  the  pestilences,  of  all  the 
turbulence,  the  splendor  and  the  wickedness,  and 
the  hot,  evil,  riotous  life  of  the  old  planters 
and  slave-owners,  Spanish,  French,  English,  and 
Dutch; — their  extermination  of  the  Indians,  and 
bringing  in  of  negro  slaves,  the  decay  of  most  of 
[176] 


OLD  AND  NEW  WAR-SHIPS 


the  islands,  the  turning  of  Hayti  into  a  land  of 
savage  negroes,  who  have  reverted  to  voodooism 
and  cannibalism;  the  effort  we  are  now  making  to 
bring  Cuba  and  Porto  Rico  forward. 

To-day  is  calm  and  beautiful,  as  all  the  days 
have  been  on  our  trip.  We  have  just  sighted  the 
highest  land  of  Panama  ahead  of  us,  and  we  shall 
be  at  anchor  by  two  o'clock  this  afternoon;  just 
a  little  less  than  six  days  from  the  time  we  left 
Washington. 

PRIDE   IN   AMERICA 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Louisianay 

Dear  Ted: 

I  am  very  glad  to  have  taken  this  trip,  although 
as  usual  I  am  bored  by  the  sea.  Everything  has 
been  smooth  as  possible,  and  it  has  been  lovely 
having  Mother  along.  It  gives  me  great  pride 
in  America  to  be  aboard  this  great  battleship 
and  to  see  not  only  the  material  perfection  of 
the  ship  herself  in  engines,  guns  and  all  arrange- 
ments, but  the  fine  quality  of  the  officers  and 
crew.  Have  you  ever  read  Smollett's  novel,  I  think 
[177] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

"Roderick  Random"  or  "Humphrey  Clinker," 
in  which  the  hero  goes  to  sea?  It  gives  me  an 
awful  idea  of  what  a  floating  hell  of  filth,  disease, 
tyranny,  and  cruelty  a  war-ship  was  in  those 
days.  Now  every  arrangement  is  as  clean  and 
healthful  as  possible.  The  men  can  bathe  and 
do  bathe  as  often  as  cleanliness  requires.  Their 
fare  is  excellent  and  they  are  as  self-respecting 
a  set  as  can  be  imagined.  I  am  no  great  believer 
in  the  superiority  of  times  past;  and  I  have  no 
question  that  the  officers  and  men  of  our  Navy 
now  are  in  point  of  fighting  capacity  better  than 
in  the  times  of  Drake  and  Nelson;  and  morally 
and  in  physical  surroundings  the  advantage  is 
infinitely  in  our  favor. 

It  was  delightful  to  have  you  two  or  three  days 
at  Washington.  Blessed  old  fellow,  you  had  a 
pretty  hard  time  in  college  this  fall;  but  it  can't 
be  helped,  Ted;  as  one  grows  older  the  bitter 
and  the  sweet  keep  coming  together.  The  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  grin  and  bear  it,  to  flinch  as  little 
as  possible  under  the  punishment,  and  to  keep 
pegging  steadily  away  until  the  luck  turns. 

[178] 


SIGHTS  IN  PANAMA 


WHAT    THE   PRESIDENT   SAW  AT   PANAMA 

U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
^  ^^  At  Sea,  November  20,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Our  visit  to  Panama  was  most  successful  as 
well  as  most  interesting.  We  were  there  three 
days  and  we  worked  from  morning  till  night. 
The  second  day  I  was  up  at  a  quarter  to  six  and 
got  to  bed  at  a  quarter  of  twelve,  and  I  do  not 
believe  that  in  the  intervening  time,  save  when 
I  was  dressing,  there  were  ten  consecutive  minutes 
when  I  was  not  busily  at  work  in  some  shape  or 
form.  For  two  days  there  [were]  uninterrupted 
tropic  rains  without  a  glimpse  of  the  sun,  and 
the  Chagres  River  rose  in  a  flood,  higher  than 
any  for  fifteen  years;  so  that  we  saw  the  climate 
at  its  worst.     It  was  just  what  I  desired  to  do. 

It  certainly  adds  to  one's  pleasure  to  have  read 
history  and  to  appreciate  the  picturesque.  When 
on  Wednesday  we  approached  the  coast,  and  the 
jungle-covered  mountains  looked  clearer  and 
clearer  until  we  could  see  the  surf  beating  on  the 
shores,  while  there  was  hardly  a  sign  of  human 

[  179  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

habitation,  I  kept  thinking  of  the  four  centuries 
of  wild  and  bloody  romance,  mixed  with  abject 
squalor  and  suffering,  which  had  made  up  the 
history  of  the  Isthmus  until  three  years  ago.  I 
could  see  Balboa  crossing  at  Darien,  and  the  wars 
between  the  Spaniards  and  the  Indians,  and  the 
settlement  and  the  building  up  of  the  quaint 
walled  Spanish  towns;  and  the  trade,  across  the 
seas  by  galleon,  and  over  land  by  pack-train  and 
river  canoe,  in  gold  and  silver,  in  precious  stones; 
and  then  the  advent  of  the  buccaneers,  and  of 
the  English  seamen,  of  Drake  and  Frobisher  and 
Morgan,  and  many,  many  others,  and  the  wild 
destruction  they  wrought.  Then  I  thought  of 
the  rebellion  against  the  Spanish  dominion,  and 
the  uninterrupted  and  bloody  wars  that  followed, 
the  last  occurring  when  I  became  President;  wars, 
the  victorious  heroes  of  which  have  their  pictures 
frescoed  on  the  quaint  rooms  of  the  palace  at 
Panama  city,  and  in  similar  palaces  in  all  capitals 
of  these  strange,  turbulent  little  half-caste  civiliza- 
tions. Meanwhile  the  Panama  railroad  had  been 
built  by  Americans  over  a  half  century  ago,  with 
[180] 


AMERICAN  CANAL  SKILL 


appalling  loss  of  life,  so  that  it  is  said,  of  course 
with  exaggeration,  that  every  sleeper  laid  rep- 
resented the  death  of  a  man.  Then  the  French 
canal  company  started  work,  and  for  two  or  three 
years  did  a  good  deal,  until  it  became  evident 
that  the  task  far  exceeded  its  powers;  and  then 
to  miscalculation  and  inefficiency  was  added  the 
hideous  greed  of  adventurers,  trying  each  to  save 
something  from  the  general  wreck,  and  the  com- 
pany closed  with  infamy  and  scandal. 

Now  we  have  taken  hold  of  the  job.  We  have 
difficulties  with  our  own  people,  of  course.  I 
haven't  a  doubt  that  it  will  take  a  little  longer 
and  cost  a  little  more  than  men  now  appreciate, 
but  I  believe  that  the  work  is  being  done  with 
a  very  high  degree  both  of  efficiency  and  honesty; 
and  I  am  immensely  struck  by  the  character  of 
American  employees  who  are  engaged,  not  merely 
in  superintending  the  work,  but  in  doing  all  the 
jobs  that  need  skill  and  intelligence.  The  steam 
shovels,  the  dirt  trains,  the  machine  shops,  and 
the  like,  are  all  filled  with  American  engineers, 
conductors,  machinists,  boiler-makers,  carpenters. 
[181] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

From  the  top  to  the  bottom  these  men  are  so 
hardy,  so  efficient,  so  energetic,  that  it  is  a  real 
pleasure  to  look  at  them.  Stevens,  the  head  en- 
gineer, is  a  big  fellow,  a  man  of  daring  and  good 
sense,  and  burly  power.  All  of  these  men  are 
quite  as  formidable,  and  would,  if  it  were  neces- 
sary, do  quite  as  much  in  battle  as  the  crews  of 
Drake  and  Morgan;  but  as  it  is,  they  are  doing 
a  work  of  infinitely  more  lasting  consequence. 
Nothing  whatever  remains  to  show  what  Drake 
and  Morgan  did.  They  produced  no  real  effect 
down  here,  but  Stevens  and  his  men  are  changing 
the  face  of  the  continent,  are  doing  the  greatest 
engineering  feat  of  the  ages,  and  the  effect  of 
their  work  will  be  felt  while  our  civilization  lasts. 
I  went  over  everything  that  I  could  possibly  go 
over  in  the  time  at  my  disposal.  I  examined 
the  quarters  of  married  and  single  men,  white 
men  and  negroes.  I  went  over  the  ground  of 
the  Gatun  and  La  Boca  dams;  went  through 
Panama  and  Colon,  and  spent  a  day  in  the  Culebra 
cut,  where  the  great  work  is  being  done.  There 
the  huge  steam-shovels  are  hard  at  it;  scooping 
[  182] 


HUGE  CANAL  DIGGERS 


huge  masses  of  rock  and  gravel  and  dirt  previously 
loosened  by  the  drillers  and  dynamite  blasters, 
loading  it  on  trains  which  take  it  away  to  some 
dump,  either  in  the  jungle  or  where  the  dams 
are  to  be  built.  They  are  eating  steadily  into 
the  mountain,  cutting  it  down  and  down.  Little 
tracks  are  laid  on  the  side-hills,  rocks  blasted  out, 
and  the  great  ninety-five  ton  steam-shovels  work 
up  like  mountain  howitzers  until  they  come  to 
where  they  can  with  advantage  begin  their  work 
of  eating  into  and  destroying  the  mountainside. 
With  intense  energy  men  and  machines  do  their 
task,  the  white  men  supervising  matters  and  han- 
dling the  machines,  while  the  tens  of  thousands 
of  black  men  do  the  rough  manual  labor  where 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  have  machines  do  it.  It 
is  an  epic  feat,  and  one  of  immense  significance. 
The  deluge  of  rain  meant  that  many  of  the 
villages  were  knee-deep  in  water,  while  the  fiooded 
rivers  tore  through  the  tropic  forests.  It  is  a 
real  tropic  forest,  palms  and  bananas,  bread- 
fruit trees,  bamboos,  lofty  ceibas,  and  gorgeous 
butterflies  and   brilliant  colored   birds  fluttering 

[183] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

among  the  orchids.  There  are  beautiful  flowers, 
too. 

All  my  old  enthusiasm  for  natural  history  seemed 
to  revive,  and  I  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to 
have  stayed  and  tried  to  collect  specimens.  It 
would  be  a  good  hunting  country  too;  deer,  and 
now  and  then  jaguars  and  tapir,  and  great  birds 
that  they  call  wild  turkeys;  there  are  alligators 
in  the  rivers.  One  of  the  trained  nurses  from  a 
hospital  went  to  bathe  in  a  pool  last  August  and 
an  alligator  grabbed  him  by  the  legs  and  was 
making  off  with  him,  but  was  fortunately  scared 
away,  leaving  the  man  badly  injured. 

I  tramped  everywhere  through  the  mud. 
Mother  did  not  do  the  roughest  work,  and  had 
time  to  see  more  of  the  really  picturesque  and 
beautiful  side  of  the  life,  and  really  enjoyed  herself. 

P.  S.  The  Gatun  dam  will  make  a  lake  miles 
long,  and  the  railroad  now  goes  on  what  will  be 
the  bottom  of  this  lake,  and  it  was  curious  to 
think  that  in  a  few  years  great  ships  would  be 
floating  in  water  100  feet  above  where  we  were. 

[184] 


PANAMA  TO  POUTO  RICO 


ON   THE   WAY  TO  PORTO  RICO 

U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
^  _,  At  Sea,  November  20,  1906. 

Dear  Ted: 

This  is  the  third  day  out  from  Panama.  We 
have  been  steaming  steadily  in  the  teeth  of  the 
trade  wind.  It  has  blown  pretty  hard,  and  the 
ship  has  pitched  a  little,  but  not  enough  to  make 
either  Mother  or  me  uncomfortable. 

Panama  was  a  great  sight.  In  the  first  place 
it  was  strange  and  beautiful  with  its  mass  of 
luxuriant  tropic  jungle,  with  the  treacherous 
tropic  rivers  trailing  here  and  there  through  it; 
and  it  was  lovely  to  see  the  orchids  and  brilliant 
butterflies  and  the  strange  birds  and  snakes  and 
lizards,  and  finally  the  strange  old  Spanish  towns 
and  the  queer  thatch  and  bamboo  huts  of  the 
ordinary  natives.  In  the  next  place  it  is  a  tre- 
mendous sight  to  see  the  work  on  the  canal  going 
on.  From  the  chief  engineer  and  the  chief  sani- 
tary officer  down  to  the  last  arrived  machinist 
or  time-keeper,  the  five  thousand  Americans  at 
work  on  the  Isthmus  seemed  to  me  an  excep- 
[  185  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

tlonally  able,  energetic  lot,  some  of  them  grum- 
bling, of  course,  but  on  the  whole  a  mighty  good 
lot  of  men.  The  West  Indian  negroes  offer  a 
greater  problem,  but  they  are  doing  pretty  well 
also.  I  was  astonished  at  the  progress  made. 
We  spent  the  three  days  in  working  from  dawn 
until  long  after  darkness — dear  Dr.  Rixey  being, 
of  course,  my  faithful  companion.  Mother  would 
see  all  she  liked  and  then  would  go  off  on  a  little 
spree  by  herself,  and  she  enjoyed  it  to  the  full. 

WHAT   HE  SAW   IN   PORTO   RICO 

U.  S.  S.  Louisiana, 
^  T^  At  Sea,  November  23,  1906. 

Dear  Kermit: 

We  had  a  most  interesting  two  days  at  Porto 
Rico.  We  landed  on  the  south  side  of  the  island 
and  were  received  by  the  Governor  and  the  rest 
of  the  administration,  including  nice  Mr.  Laurance 
Grahame;  then  were  given  a  reception  by  the 
Alcalde  and  people  of  Ponce;  and  then  went 
straight  across  the  island  in  automobiles  to  San 
Juan  on  the  north  shore.  It  was  an  eighty  mile 
trip  and  really  delightful.     The  road  wound  up 

[186] 


PORTO  RICAN  SCENERY 


to  the  high  mountains  of  the  middle  island,  through 
them,  and  then  down  again  to  the  flat  plain  on 
the  north  shore.  The  scenery  was  beautiful.  It 
was  as  thoroughl}^  tropical  as  Panama  but  much 
more  livable.  There  were  palms,  tree-ferns,  ba- 
nanas, mangoes,  bamboos,  and  many  other  trees 
and  multitudes  of  brilliant  flowers.  There  was 
one  vine  called  the  dream-vine  with  flowers  as 
big  as  great  white  water-lilies,  which  close  up 
tight  in  the  day-time  and  bloom  at  night.  There 
were  vines  with  masses  of  brilliant  purple  and 
pink  flowers,  and  others  with  masses  of  little  white 
flowers,  which  at  night-time  smell  deliciously. 
There  were  trees  studded  over  with  huge  white 
flowers,  and  others,  the  flamboyants  such  as  I  saw 
in  the  campaign  at  Santiago,  are  a  mass  of  large 
scarlet  blossoms  in  June,  but  which  now  had  shed 
them.  I  thought  the  tree-ferns  especially  beau- 
tiful. The  towns  were  just  such  as  you  saw  in 
Cuba,  quaint,  brilliantly  colored,  with  the  old 
church  or  cathedral  fronting  the  plaza,  and  the 
plaza  always  full  of  flowers.  Of  course  the  towns 
are  dirty,  but  they  are  not  nearly  as  dirty  and 
[187] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

offensive  as  those  of  Italy;  and  there  is  something 
pathetic  and  childlike  about  the  people.  We  are 
giving  them  a  good  government  and  the  island 
is  prospering.  I  never  saw  a  finer  set  of  young 
fellows  than  those  engaged  in  the  administration. 
Mr.  Grahame,  whom  of  course  you  remember,  is 
the  intimate  friend  and  ally  of  the  leaders  of  the 
administration,  that  is  of  Governor  Beekman 
Winthrop  and  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  Mr.  Regis 
Post.  Grahame  is  a  perfect  trump  and  such  a 
handsome,  athletic  fellow,  and  a  real  Sir  Galahad. 
Any  wrong-doing,  and  especially  any  cruelty 
makes  him  flame  with  fearless  indignation.  He 
perfectly  delighted  the  Porto  Ricans  and  also 
immensely  puzzled  them  by  coming  in  his  Scotch 
kilt  to  a  Government  ball.  Accordingly,  at  my 
special  request,  I  had  him  wear  his  kilt  at  the 
state  dinner  and  reception  the  night  we  were  at 
the  palace.  You  know  he  is  a  descendant  of  Mont- 
rose, and  although  born  in  Canada,  his  parents 
were  Scotch  and  he  was  educated  in  Scotland. 
Do  tell  Mr.  Bob  Fergie  about  him  and  his  kilts 
when  you  next  write  him. 
[188] 


NIGHT  IN  PORTO  RICO 


We  spent  the  night  at  the  palace,  which  is  half 
palace  and  half  castle,  and  was  the  residence  of 
the  old  Spanish  governors.  It  is  nearly  four  hun- 
dred years  old,  and  is  a  delightful  building,  with 
quaint  gardens  and  a  quaint  sea-wall  looking 
over  the  bay.  There  were  colored  lanterns  light- 
ing up  the  gardens  for  the  reception,  and  the  view 
across  the  bay  in  the  moonlight  was  lovely.  Our 
rooms  were  as  attractive  as  possible  too,  except 
that  they  were  so  very  airy  and  open  that  we 
found  it  dij05cult  to  sleep — not  that  that  much 
mattered  as,  thanks  to  the  earliness  of  our  start 
and  the  lateness  of  our  reception,  we  had  barely 
four  hours  in  which  we  even  tried  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  we  came  back  in  automobiles 
over  different  and  even  more  beautiful  roads. 
The  mountain  passes  through  and  over  which 
we  went  made  us  feel  as  if  we  were  in  a  tropic 
Switzerland.  We  had  to  cross  two  or  three  rivers 
where  big  cream-colored  oxen  with  yokes  tied 
to  their  horns  pulled  the  automobiles  through 
the  water.  At  one  funny  little  village  we  had  an 
open  air  lunch,  very  good,  of  chicken  and  eggs 
[189] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  bread,  and  some  wine  contributed  by  a  wealthy 
young  Spaniard  who  rode  up  from  a  neighboring 
coffee  ranch. 

Yesterday  afternoon  we  embarked  again,  and 
that  evening  the  crew  gave  a  theatrical  enter- 
tainment on  the  afterdeck,  closing  with  three 
boxing  bouts.  I  send  you  the  program.  It  was 
great  fun,  the  audience  being  equally  enraptured 
with  the  sentimental  songs  about  the  JSag,  and 
the  sailor's  true  love  and  his  mother,  and  with 
the  jokes  (the  most  relished  of  which  related  to 
the  fact  that  bed-bugs  were  supposed  to  be  so 
large  that  they  had  to  be  shot !)  and  the  skits 
about  the  commissary  and  various  persons  and 
deeds  on  the  ship.  In  a  way  the  freedom  of  com- 
ment reminded  me  a  little  of  the  Roman  triumphs, 
when  the  excellent  legendaries  recited  in  verse 
and  prose,  anything  they  chose  concerning  the 
hero  in  whose  deeds  they  had  shared  and  whose 
triumphs  they  were  celebrating.  The  stage,  well 
lighted,  was  built  on  the  aftermost  part  of  the 
deck.  We  sat  in  front  with  the  oflScers,  and  the 
sailors  behind  us  in  masses  on  the  deck,  on  the 

[190] 


"COMRADE  AND   SHIPMATE" 

aftermost  turrets,  on  the  bridge,  and  even  in  the 
fighting  top  of  the  aftermost  mast.  It  was  in- 
teresting to  see  their  faces  in  the  light. 

P.  S.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  about  the  banners 
and  inscriptions  of  welcome  to  me  in  Porto  Rico. 
One  of  them  which  stretched  across  the  road  had 
on  it  "Welcome  to  Theodore  and  Mrs.  Roose- 
velt." Last  evening  I  really  enjoyed  a  rather 
funny  experience.  There  is  an  Army  and  Navy 
Union  composed  chiefly  of  enlisted  men,  but  also 
of  many  officers,  and  they  suddenly  held  a  "gar- 
rison" meeting  in  the  torpedo-room  of  this  ship. 
There  were  about  fifty  enlisted  men  together 
with  the  Captain  and  myself.  I  v/as  introduced 
as  "comrade  and  shipmate  Theodore  Roosevelt, 
President  of  the  United  States."  They  were 
such  a  nice  set  of  fellows,  and  I  was  really  so 
pleased  to  be  with  them;  so  self-respecting,  so 
earnest,  and  just  the  right  type  out  of  which  to 
make  the  typical  American  fighting  man  who  is 
also  a  good  citizen.  The  meeting  reminded  me 
a  good  deal  of  a  lodge  meeting  at  Oyster  Bay; 
[191] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  of  course  those  men  are  fundamentally  of 
the  same  type  as  the  shipwrights,  railroad  men 
and  fishermen  whom  I  met  at  the  lodge,  and  who, 
by  the  way,  are  my  chief  backers  politically  and 
are  the  men  who  make  up  the  real  strength  of 
this  nation. 

SICKNESS   OF   ARCHIE 
^  T^  White  House,  March  3,  1907. 

Dear  Kermit: 

Poor  little  Archie  has  diphtheria,  and  we  have 
had  a  wearing  forty-eight  hours.  Of  course  it  is 
harder  upon  Mother  a  good  deal  than  upon  me, 
because  she  spends  her  whole  time  with  him  to- 
gether with  the  trained  nurse,  while  I  simply 
must  attend  to  my  work  during  these  closing 
hours  of  Congress  (I  have  worked  each  day  steadily 
up  to  half  past  seven  and  also  in  the  evening); 
and  only  see  Archiekins  for  twenty  minutes  or  a 
half  hour  before  dinner.  The  poor  little  fellow 
likes  to  have  me  put  my  hands  on  his  forehead, 
for  he  says  they  smell  so  clean  and  soapy !  Last 
night  he  was  very  sick,  but  this  morning  he  is 
better,  and  Dr.  Rixey  thinks  everything  is  going 
[192] 


QUENTIN'S  ASPIRATION 


well.  Dr.  Lambert  is  coming  on  this  afternoon 
to  see  him.  Ethel,  who  is  away  at  Philadelphia, 
will  be  sent  to  stay  with  the  Rixeys.  Quentin, 
who  has  been  exposed  somewhat  to  infection,  is 
not  allowed  to  see  other  little  boys,  and  is  leading 
a  career  of  splendid  isolation  among  the  ushers 
and  policemen. 

Since  I  got  back  here  I  have  not  done  a  thing 
except  work  as  the  President  must  during  the 
closing  days  of  a  session  of  Congress.  Mother 
was,  fortunately,  getting  much  better,  but  now 
of  course  is  having  a  very  hard  time  of  it  nursing" 
darling  little  Archie.  He  is  just  as  good  as  gold 
— so  patient  and  loving.  Yesterday  that  scamp 
Quentin  said  to  Mademoiselle:  "If  only  I  had 
Archie's  nature,  and  my  head,  wouldn't  it  be 
great  .^" 

In  all  his  sickness  Archie  remembered  that  to- 
day was  Mademoiselle's  birthday,  and  sent  her 
his  love  and  congratulations — which  promptly 
reduced  good  Mademoiselle  to  tears. 


[193] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

AT   THE   JAMESTOWN    EXPOSITION 

^  ^^  White  House,  April  29,  1907. 

Dearest  Kermit: 

We  really  had  an  enjoyable  trip  to  Jamestown. 
The  guests  were  Mother's  friend,  Mrs.  Johnson, 
a  Virginia  lady  who  reminds  me  so  much  of  Aunt 
Annie,  my  mother's  sister,  who  throughout  my 
childhood  was  almost  as  much  associated  in  our 
home  life  as  vny  mother  herself;  Justice  Moody, 
who  was  as  delightful  as  he  always  is,  and  with 
whom  it  was  a  real  pleasure  to  again  have  a  chance 
to  talk;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bob  Bacon,  who  proved 
the  very  nicest  guests  of  all  and  were  compan- 
ionable and  sympathetic  at  every  point.  Ethel 
was  as  good  as  gold  and  took  much  off  of  Mother's 
shoulders  in  the  way  of  taking  care  of  Quentin. 
Archie  and  Quentin  had,  of  course,  a  heavenly 
time;  went  everywhere,  below  and  aloft,  and  ate 
indifferently  at  all  hours,  both  with  the  officers 
and  enlisted  men.  We  left  liere  Thursday  after- 
noon, and  on  Friday  morning  passed  in  review 
through  the  foreign  fleet  and  our  own  fleet  of 
sixteen  great  battleships  in  addition  to  cruisers. 
It  was  an  inspiring  sight  and  one  I  would  not 
[  194  ] 


A  WRINKLED  PIE  HAT 


have  missed  for  a  great  deal.  Then  we  went  in 
a  launch  to  the  Exposition  where  I  had  the  usual 
experience  in  such  cases,  made  the  usual  speech, 
held  the  usual  reception,  went  to  the  usual  lunch, 
etc.,  etc. 

In  the  evening  Mother  and  I  got  on  the  Syljph 
and  went  to  Norfolk  to  dine.  When  the  Sylph  land- 
ed we  were  met  by  General  Grant  to  convoy  us  to 
the  house.  I  was  finishing  dressing,  and  Mother 
went  out  into  the  cabin  and  sat  down  to  receive 
him.  In  a  minute  or  two  I  came  out  and  began 
to  hunt  for  my  hat.  Mother  sat  very  erect  and 
pretty,  looking  at  my  efforts  with  a  tolerance 
that  gradually  changed  to  impatience.  Finally 
she  arose  to  get  her  own  cloak,  and  then  I  found 
that  she  had  been  sitting  gracefully  but  firmly 
on  the  hat  herself — it  was  a  crush  hat  and  it  had 
been  flattened  until  it  looked  like  a  wrinkled  pie. 
Mother  did  not  see  what  she  had  done  so  I  speech- 
lessly thrust  the  hat  toward  her;  but  she  still 
did  not  understand  and  took  it  as  an  inexplicable 
jest  of  mine  merely  saying,  "Yes,  dear,"  and 
with  patient  dignity,  turned  and  went  out  of  the 
door  with  General  Grant. 

[195] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

The  next  morning  we  went  on  the  Sylph  up 
the  James  River,  and  on  the  return  trip  visited 
three  of  the  dearest  places  you  can  imagine,  Shir- 
ley, Westover,  and  Brandon.  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  loved  most  the  places  themselves  or 
the  quaint  out-of-the-world  Virginia  gentlewomen 
in  them.  The  houses,  the  grounds,  the  owners, 
all  were  too  dear  for  anything  and  we  loved  them. 
That  night  we  went  back  to  the  Mayflower  and 
returned  here  yesterday,  Sunday,  afternoon. 

To-day  spring  weather  seems  really  to  have 
begun,  and  after  lunch  Mother  and  I  sat  under 
the  apple-tree  by  the  fountain.  A  purple  finch 
was  singing  in  the  apple-tree  overhead,  and  the 
white  petals  of  the  blossoms  were  silently  falling. 
This  afternoon  Mother  and  I  are  going  out  riding 
with  Senator  Lodge. 

GENERAL   KUROKI 

^  ^^  White  House,  May  12,  1907. 

Dear  Kermit:  . .  . 

General  Kuroki  and  his  suite  are  here  and  dined 

with  us  at  a  formal  dinner  last  evening.    Every- 

[  196  ] 


WANDERING  SKIP 


thing  that  he  says  has  to  be  translated,  but  never- 
theless I  had  a  really  interesting  talk  with  him, 
because  I  am  pretty  well  acquainted  with  his 
campaigns.  He  impressed  me  much,  as  indeed 
all  Japanese  military  and  naval  officers  do.  They 
are  a  formidable  outfit.  I  want  to  try  to  keep 
on  the  best  possible  terms  with  Japan  and  never 
do  her  any  wrong;  but  I  want  still  more  to  see 
our  navy  maintained  at  the  highest  point  of  ef- 
ficiency, for  it  is  the  real  keeper  of  the  peace. 

TEMPORARY  ABSENCE  OF  SKIP 

The  other  day  Pete  got  into  a  most  fearful 
fight  and  was  dreadfully  bitten.  He  was  a  very 
forlorn  dog  indeed  when  he  came  home.  And 
on  that  particular  day  Skip  disappeared  and  had 
not  turned  up  when  we  went  to  bed.  Poor  Archie 
was  very  uneasy  lest  Skip  should  have  gone  the 
way  of  Jack;  and  Mother  and  I  shared  his  un- 
easiness. But  about  two  in  the  morning  we  both 
of  us  heard  a  sharp  little  bark  down-stairs  and 
knew  it  was  Skip,  anxious  to  be  let  in.  So  down 
I  went  and  opened  the  door  on  the  portico,  and 
[197] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

Skip  simply  scuttled  in  and  up  to  Archie's  room, 
where  Archie  waked  up  enough  to  receive  him 
literally  with  open  arms  and  then  went  to  sleep 
cuddled  up  to  him. 

DEATH   OF  SKIP 
T»  4  Sagamore  Hill,  Sept.  21,  1907. 

Blessed  Archiekins: 

We  felt  dreadfully  homesick  as  you  and  Kermit 
drove  away;  when  we  pass  along  the  bay  front 
we  always  think  of  the  dory;  and  we  mourn  dear 
little  Skip,  although  perhaps  it  was  as  well  the 
little  doggie  should  pass  painlessly  away,  after 
his  happy  little  life;  for  the  little  fellow  would 
have  pined  for  you. 

Your  letter  was  a  great  comfort;  we'll  send  on 
the  football  suit  and  hope  you'll  enjoy  the  foot- 
ball. Of  course  it  will  all  be  new  and  rather  hard 
at  first. 

The  house  is  "put  up";  everything  wrapped 
in  white  that  can  be,  and  all  the  rugs  off  the  floors. 
Quentin  is  reduced  to  the  secret  service  men  for 
steady  companionship. 

[198] 


SNAKES  AND   CONGRESSMEN 

quentin's  snake  adventure 

_,  ,  White  House,  Sept.  28,  1907. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Before  we  left  Oyster  Bay  Quentin  had  col- 
lected two  snakes.  He  lost  one,  which  did  not 
turn  up  again  until  an  hour  before  departure, 
when  he  found  it  in  one  of  the  spare  rooms.  This 
one  he  left  loose,  and  brought  the  other  one  to 
Washington,  there  being  a  variety  of  exciting 
adventures  on  the  way;  the  snake  wriggling  out 
of  his  box  once,  and  being  upset  on  the  floor  once. 
The  first  day  home  Quentin  was  allowed  not  to 
go  to  school  but  to  go  about  and  renew  all  his 
friendships.  Among  other  places  that  he  visited 
was  Schmid's  animal  store,  where  he  left  his  little 
snake.  Schmid  presented  him  with  three  snakes, 
simply  to  pass  the  day  with — a  large  and  beautiful 
and  very  friendly  king  snake  and  two  little  wee 
snakes.  Quentin  came  hurrying  back  on  his  roller 
skates  and  burst  into  the  room  to  show  me  his 
treasures.  I  was  discussing  certain  matters  with 
the  Attorney-General  at  the  time,  and  the  snakes 
were  eagerly  deposited  in  my  lap.  The  king  snake, 
[199] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

by  the  way,  although  most  friendly  with  Quentin, 
had  just  been  making  a  resolute  effort  to  devour 
one  of  the  smaller  snakes.  As  Quentin  and  his 
menagerie  were  an  interruption  to  my  interview 
with  the  Department  of  Justice,  I  suggested  that 
he  go  into  the  next  room,  where  four  Congressmen 
were  drearily  waiting  until  I  should  be  at  leisure. 
I  thought  that  he  and  his  snakes  would  probably 
enliven  their  waiting  time.  He  at  once  fell  in 
with  the  suggestion  and  rushed  up  to  the  Con- 
gressmen with  the  assurance  that  he  would  there 
find  kindred  spirits.  They  at  first  thought  the 
snakes  were  wooden  ones,  and  there  was  some 
perceptible  recoil  when  they  realized  that  they 
were  alive.  Then  the  king  snake  went  up  Quen- 
tin's  sleeve — he  was  three  or  four  feet  long — and 
we  hesitated  to  drag  him  back  because  his  scales 
rendered  that  difiacult.  The  last  I  saw  of  Quentin, 
one  Congressman  was  gingerly  helping  him  off 
with  his  jacket,  so  as  to  let  the  snake  crawl  out 
of  the  upper  end  of  the  sleeve. 


[200] 


A   WESTERN  TRIP 


la  the  fall  of  1907  the  President  made  a  tour 
through  the  West  and  South  and  went  on  a  hunt- 
ing-trip in  Louisiana.  In  accordance  with  his  un- 
varying custom  he  wrote  regularly  to  his  children 
while  on  his  journeyings. 

TRIALS   OF   A   TRAVELLING   PRESIDENT 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Mississippi, 
^  ^  October  1,  1907. 

Dearest  Ethel: 

The  first  part  of  my  trip  up  to  the  time  that 
we  embarked  on  the  river  at  Keokuk  was  just 
about  in  the  ordinary  style.  I  had  continually 
to  rush  out  to  wave  at  the  people  at  the  towns 
through  which  the  train  passed.  If  the  train 
stopped  anywhere  I  had  to  make  a  very  short 
speech  to  several  hundred  people  who  evidently 
thought  they  liked  me,  and  whom  I  really  liked, 
but  to  whom  I  had  nothing  in  the  world  to  say. 
At  Canton  and  Keokuk  I  went  through  the  usual 
solemn  festivities — the  committee  of  reception 
and  the  guard  of  honor,  with  the  open  carriage, 
the  lines  of  enthusiastic  fellow-citizens  to  whom 
I  bowed  continually  right  and  left,  the  speech 
[201] 


LETTERS  TO  fflS  CHILDREN 

which  in  each  ease  I  thought  went  off  rather  better 
than  I  had  dared  hope — for  I  felt  as  if  I  had  spoken 
myself  out.  When  I  got  on  the  boat,  however, 
times  grew  easier.  I  still  have  to  rush  out  con- 
tinually, stand  on  the  front  part  of  the  deck,  and 
wave  at  groups  of  people  on  shore,  and  at  stern- 
wheel  steamboats  draped  with  American  flags 
and  loaded  with  enthusiastic  excursionists.  But 
I  have  a  great  deal  of  time  to  myself,  and  by  gentle 
firmness  I  think  I  have  succeeded  in  impressing 
on  my  good  hosts  that  I  rather  resent  allopathic 
doses  of  information  about  shoals  and  dykes,  the 
amount  of  sand  per  cubic  foot  of  water,  the  quan- 
tity of  manufactures  supplied  by  each  river  town, 
etc. 

CHANGES  OF  THREE  CENTURIES 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Mississippi, 
^  T^  October  1,  1907. 

Dear  Kermit:  .  .  . 

After  speaking  at  Keokuk  this  morning  we  got 
aboard  this  brand  new  stern-wheel  steamer  of  the 
regular  Mississippi  type  and  started  down-stream. 
I  went  up  on  the  texas  and  of  course  felt  an  al- 
most irresistible  desire  to  ask  the  pilot  about 
Mark  Twain.  It  is  a  broad,  shallow,  muddy 
[  202  ] 


MISSISSIPPI  RIVER  SIGHTS 

river,  at  places  the  channel  being  barely  wide 
enough  for  the  boat  to  go  through,  though  to 
my  inexperienced  eyes  the  whole  river  looks  like 
a  channel.  The  bottom  lands,  Illinois  on  one  side 
and  Missouri  on  the  other,  are  sometimes  over- 
grown with  forests  and  sometimes  great  rich  corn- 
fields, with  here  and  there  a  house,  here  and  there 
villages,  and  now  and  then  a  little  town.  At  every 
such  place  all  the  people  of  the  neighborhood  have 
gathered  to  greet  me.  The  water-front  of  the 
towns  would  be  filled  with  a  dense  packed  mass 
of  men,  women,  and  children,  waving  flags.  The 
little  villages  have  not  only  their  own  population, 
but  also  the  farmers  who  have  driven  in  in  their 
wagons  with  their  wives  and  children  from  a  dozen 
miles  back — just  such  farmers  as  came  to  see 
you  and  the  cavalry  on  your  march  through  Iowa 
last  summer. 

It  is  my  first  trip  on  the  Mississippi,  and  I  am 
greatly  interested  in  it.  How  wonderful  in  its 
rapidity  of  movement  has  been  the  history  of  our 
country,  compared  with  the  history  of  the  old 
world.  For  untold  ages  this  river  had  been  flow- 
ing through  the  lonely  continent,  not  very  greatly 
[203] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

changed  since  the  close  of  the  Pleistocene.  Dur- 
ing all  these  myriads  of  years  the  prairie  and  the 
forest  came  down  to  its  banks.  The  immense 
herds  of  the  buffalo  and  the  elk  wandered  along 
them  season  after  season,  and  the  Indian  hunters 
on  foot  or  in  canoes  trudged  along  the  banks  or 
skimmed  the  water.  Probably  a  thousand  years 
saw  no  change  that  would  have  been  noticeable 
to  our  eyes.  Then  three  centuries  ago  began  the 
work  of  change.  For  a  century  its  effects  were 
not  perceptible.  Just  nothing  but  an  occasional 
French  fleet  or  wild  half  savage  French-Canadian 
explorer  passing  up  or  down  the  river  or  one  of 
its  branches  in  an  Indian  canoe;  then  the  first 
faint  changes,  the  building  of  one  or  two  little 
French  fur  traders'  hamlets,  the  passing  of  one 
or  two  British  officers'  boats,  and  the  very  rare 
appearance  of  the  uncouth  American  backwoods- 
man. 

Then  the  change  came  with  a  rush.    Our  settlers 
reached  the  head-waters  of  the  Ohio,  and  flat- 
boats  and  keel-boats  began  to  go  down  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Indians  and 
[204] 


FIEST  AMERICAN  CITIES 

the  game  they  followed  began  their  last  great 
march  to  the  west.  For  ages  they  had  marched 
back  and  forth,  but  from  this  march  there  was 
never  to  be  a  return.  Then  the  day  of  steamboat 
traffic  began,  and  the  growth  of  the  first  American 
cities  and  states  along  the  river  with  their  strength 
and  their  squalor  and  their  raw  pride.  Then  this 
mighty  steamboat  traffic  passed  its  zenith  and 
collapsed,  and  for  a  generation  the  river  towns 
have  dwindled  compared  with  the  towns  which 
took  their  importance  from  the  growth  of  the 
railroads.  I  think  of  it  all  as  I  pass  down  the 
river. 

October  4.  .  .  .  We  are  steaming  down  the 
river  now  between  Tennessee  and  Arkansas.  The 
forest  comes  down  a  little  denser  to  the  bank, 
the  houses  do  not  look  quite  so  well  kept;  other- 
wise there  is  not  much  change.  There  are  a  dozen 
steamers  accompanying  us,  filled  with  delegates 
from  various  river  cities.  The  people  are  all  out 
on  the  banks  to  greet  us  still.  Moreover,  at  night, 
no  matter  what  the  hour  is  that  we  pass  a  town, 
it  is  generally  illuminated,  and  sometimes  whistles 
[205] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  noisy  greetings,  while  our  steamboats  whistle 
in  equally  noisy  response,  so  that  our  sleep  is  apt 
to  be  broken.  Seventeen  governors  of  different 
states  are  along,  in  a  boat  by  themselves.  I  have 
seen  a  good  deal  of  them,  however,  and  it  has  been 
of  real  use  to  me,  especially  as  regards  two  or 
three  problems  that  are  up.  At  St.  Louis  there 
was  an  enormous  multitude  of  people  out  to  see 
us.  The  procession  was  in  a  drenching  rain,  in 
which  I  stood  bareheaded,  smiling  affably  and 
waving  my  drowned  hat  to  those  hardy  members 
of  the  crowd  who  declined  to  go  to  shelter.  At 
Cairo,  I  was  also  greeted  with  great  enthusiasm, 
and  I  was  interested  to  find  that  there  was  still 
extreme  bitterness  felt  over  Dickens's  description 
of  the  town  and  the  people  in  "Martin  Chuzzle- 
wit"  sixty -five  years  ago. 


PECULIARITIES   OF  MISSISSIPPI   STEAMBOATS 

On  Board  U.  S.  S.  Mississippi, 
_  .  Oct.  1,  1907. 

Dear  Archie:  . . . 

I  am  now  on  what  I  believe  will  be  my  last 
trip  of  any  consequence  while  I  am  President. 

[206] 


MISSISSIPPI  STEAMERS 


Until  I  got  to  Keokuk,  Iowa,  it  was  about  like 
any  other  trip,  but  it  is  now  pleasant  going  down 
the  Mississippi,  though  I  admit  that  I  would  rather 
be  at  home.  We  are  on  a  funny,  stern-wheel 
steamer.  Mr.  John  Mcllhenny  is  with  me,  and 
Capt.  Seth  Bullock  among  others.  We  have  seen 
wild  geese  and  ducks  and  cormorants  on  the  river, 
and  the  people  everywhere  come  out  in  boats 
and  throng  or  cluster  on  the  banks  to  greet  us. 
October  4.  You  would  be  greatly  amused  at 
these  steamboats,  and  I  think  you  will  like  your 
trip  up  the  Mississippi  next  spring,  if  only  every- 
thing goes  right,  and  Mother  is  able  to  make  it. 
There  is  no  hold  to  the  boat,  just  a  flat  bottom 
with  a  deck,  and  on  this  deck  a  foot  or  so  above 
the  water  stands  the  engine-room,  completely 
open  at  the  sides  and  all  the  machinery  visible 
as  you  come  up  to  the  boat.  Both  ends  are  blunt, 
and  the  gangways  are  drawn  up  to  big  cranes. 
Of  course  the  boats  could  not  stand  any  kind  of 
a  sea,  but  here  they  are  very  useful,  for  they  are 
shallow  and  do  not  get  hurt  when  they  bump  into 
the  bank  or  one  another.  The  river  runs  down 
in  a  broad,  swirling,  brown  current,  and  nobody 
[207] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

but  an  expert  could  tell  the  channel.  One  pilot 
or  another  is  up  in  the  texas  all  day  long  and  all 
night.  Now  the  channel  goes  close  under  one 
bank,  then  we  have  to  cross  the  river  and  go  under 
the  other  bank;  then  there  will  come  a  deep  spot 
when  we  can  go  anywhere.  Then  we  wind  in 
and  out  among  shoals  and  sand-bars.  At  night 
the  steamers  are  all  lighted  up,  for  there  are  a 
dozen  of  them  in  company  with  us.  It  is  nice 
to  look  back  at  them  as  they  twist  after  us  in  a 
Ion?  winding  line  down  the  river. 


THE   LONE   CAT    OF   THE   CAMP 

^  ^  Stamboul,  La.,  Oct.  13,  1907. 

Darling  Quentin: 

When  we  shifted  camp   we  came  down  here 

and  found  a  funny  little  wooden  shanty,  put  up 

by  some  people  who  now  and  then  come  out  here 

and  sleep  in  it  when  they  fish  or  shoot.    The  only 

living  thing  around  it  was  a  pussy-cat.    She  was 

most  friendly  and  pleasant,  and  we  found  that 

she  had  been  living  here  for  two  years.     When 

people  were  in  the  neighborhood,  she  would  take 

[208] 


A  FOREST  FANATIC 


what  scraps  she  could  get,  but  the  rest  of  the  time 
she  would  catch  her  own  game  for  herself.  She 
was  pretty  thin  when  we  came,  and  has  already 
fattened  visibly.  She  was  not  in  the  least  dis- 
concerted by  the  appearance  of  the  hounds,  and 
none  of  them  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  her 
when  she  wandered  about  among  them.  We  are 
camped  on  the  edge  of  a  lake.  This  morning 
before  breakfast  I  had  a  good  swim  in  it,  the  water 
being  warmer  than  the  air,  and  this  evening  I 
rowed  on  it  in  the  moonlight.  Every  night  we 
hear  the  great  owls  hoot  and  laugh  in  uncanny 
fashion. 

Camp  on  Tenesas  Bayou, 
^  ^  Oct.  6,  1907. 

Darling  Ethel: 

Here  we  are  in  camp.  It  is  very  picturesque, 
and  as  comfortable  as  possible.  We  have  a  big 
fly  tent  for  the  horses;  the  hounds  sleep  with 
them,  or  with  the  donkeys !  There  is  a  white 
hunter,  Ben  Lily,  who  has  just  joined  us,  who  is 
a  really  remarkable  character.  He  literally  lives 
in  the  woods.  He  joined  us  early  this  morning, 
with  one  dog.  He  had  tramped  for  twenty-four 
[209] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

hours  through  the  woods,  without  food  or  water, 
and  had  slept  a  couple  of  hours  in  a  crooked  tree, 
like  a  wild  turkey. 

He  has  a  mild,  gentle  face,  blue  eyes,  and  full 
beard;  he  is  a  religious  fanatic,  and  is  as  hardy 


as  a  bear  or  elk,  literally  caring  nothing  for  fatigue 
and  exposure,  which  we  couldn't  stand  at  all.  He 
doesn't  seem  to  consider  the  24  hours'  trip  he  has 
just  made,  any  more  than  I  should  a  half  hour's 
walk  before  breakfast.  He  quotes  the  preacher 
Talmage  continually. 

This  is  a  black  belt.     The  people  are  almost  all 
negroes,  curious  creatures,  some  of  them  with  In- 
[210] 


WILDCAT  PECULIARITIES 


dian  blood,  like  those  in  "Voodoo  Tales."  Yes- 
terday we  met  two  little  negresses  riding  one 
mule,  bare-legged,  with  a  rope  bridle. 


-,  .  Tenesas  Bayou,  Oct.  10,  1907. 

Blessed  Archie: 

I  just  loved  your  letter.  I  was  so  glad  to  hear 
from  you.  I  was  afraid  you  would  have  trouble 
with  your  Latin.  What  a  funny  little  fellow  Op- 
dyke  must  be;  I  am  glad  you  like  him.  How  do 
you  get  on  at  football? 

We  have  found  no  bear.  I  shot  a  deer;  I  sent  a 
picture  of  it  to  Kermit. 

[211] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

A  small  boy  here  caught  several  wildcats. 
When  one  was  in  the  trap  he  would  push  a  box 
towards  it,  and  it  would  itself  get  into  it,  to  hide; 
and  so  he  would  capture  it  alive.  But  one,  in- 
stead of  getting  into  the  box,  combed  the  hair  of 
the  small  boy ! 


We  have  a  great  many  hounds  in  camp;  at  night 
they  gaze  solemnly  into  the  fire. 


[212] 


DR.  LAMBERT  FISHING 


Dr.  Lambert  has  caught  a  good  many  bass, 
which  we  have  enjoyed  at  the  camp  table. 


T-.  .  Bear  Bayou,  Oct.  16,  1907. 

Darling  Archie: 

We  have  had  no  luck  with  the  bear;  but  we  have 
killed  as  many  deer  as  we  needed  for  meat,  and 
the  hounds  caught  a  wildcat.  Our  camp  is  as 
comfortable  as  possible,  and  we  have  great  camp 
fires  at  night. 

One  of  the  bear-hunting  planters  with  me  told 
[213] 


214] 


[215] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

me  he  once  saw  a  bear,  when  overtaken  by  the 
hounds,  lie  down  flat  on  its  back  with  all  its  legs 
stretched  out,  while  the  dogs  barked  furiously  all 
around  it. 

Suddenly  the  bear  sat  up  with  a  jump,  and 
frightened  all  the  dogs  so  that  they  nearly  turned 
back  somersaults. 

At  this  camp  there  is  a  nice  tame  pussy-cat 
which  lies  out  here  all  the  time,  catching  birds, 
mice,  or  lizards;  but  very  friendly  with  any  party 
of  hunters  which  happens  along. 

P.  S. — I  have  just  killed  a  bear;  I  have  written 
Kermit  about  it. 

SHOOTING   THE  BEAR 
-pv  Tirn-       ^^  route  to  Washington,  Oct.  22,  1907. 

"Bad  old  father"  is  coming  back  after  a  suc- 
cessful trip.  It  was  a  success  in  every  way,  in- 
cluding the  bear  hunt;  but  in  the  case  of  the  bear 
hunt  we  only  just  m.ade  it  successful  and  no  more, 
for  it  was  not  until  the  twelfth  day  of  steady  hunt- 
ing that  I  got  my  bear.  Then  I  shot  it  in  the  most 
approved  hunter's  style,  going  up  on  it  in  a  cane- 
brake  as  it  made  a  walking  bay  before  the  dogs. 
[  216  ] 


SCAMP  AND  KITCHEN   CAT 

I  also  killed  a  deer — more  by  luck  than  anything 
else,  as  it  was  a  difficult  shot. 

quentin's  "exquisite  jest" 

_  ^  White  House,  Jan.  2,  1908. 

Dear  Archie: 

Friday  night  Quentin  had  three  friends,  in- 
cluding the  little  Taft  boy,  to  spend  the  night 
with  him.  They  passed  an  evening  and  night  of 
delirious  rapture,  it  being  a  continuous  rough- 
house  save  when  they  would  fall  asleep  for  an 
hour  or  two  from  sheer  exhaustion.  I  interfered 
but  once,  and  that  was  to  stop  an  exquisite  jest 
of  Quentin's,  which  consisted  in  procuring  sul- 
phureted  hydrogen  to  be  used  on  the  other  boys 
when  they  got  into  bed.  They  played  hard,  and 
it  made  me  realize  how  old  I  had  grow^n  and  how 
very  busy  I  had  been  these  last  few  years,  to  find 
that  they  had  grown  so  that  I  was  not  needed 
in  the  play.  Do  you  recollect  how  we  all  of  us 
used  to  play  hide-and-go-seek  in  the  Wliite  House  ? 
and  have  obstacle  races  down  the  hall  when  you 
brought  in  your  friends  ? 

Mother  continues  much  attached  to  Scamp, 
[217  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS   CHILDREN 

who  is  certainly  a  cunning  little  dog.  He  is  very 
affectionate,  but  so  exceedingly  busy  when  we 
are  out  on  the  grounds,  that  we  only  catch  glimpses 
of  him  zigzagging  at  full  speed  from  one  end  of 
the  place  to  the  other.  The  kitchen  cat  and  he 
have  strained  relations  but  have  not  yet  come  to 
open  hostility. 

^  ,  White  House,  Jan.  27,  1908. 

Dear  Archie: 

Scamp  is  really  a  cunning  little  dog,  but  he 
takes  such  an  extremely  keen  interest  in  hunting, 
and  is  so  active,  that  when  he  is  out  on  the  grounds 
with  us  we  merely  catch  glimpses  of  him  as  he 
flashes  by.  The  other  night  after  the  Judicial  Re- 
ception when  we  went  up-stairs  to  supper  the 
kitchen  cat  suddenly  appeared  parading  down  the 
hall  with  great  friendliness,  and  was  forthwith  ex- 
iled to  her  proper  home  again. 

TOM   PINCH 

^  „  White  House,  February  23,  1908. 

Dearest  Kermit: 

I  quite  agree  with  you  about  Tom  Pinch.  He 
is  a  despicable  kind  of  character;  just  the  kind 
of  character  Dickens  liked,  because  he  had  him- 

[218  1 


MERITS  AND  DEFECTS  OF  DICKENS 

self  a  thick  streak  of  maudlin  sentimentality  of 
the  kind  that,  as  somebody  phrased  it,  "made 
him  wallow  naked  in  the  pathetic."  It  always 
interests  me  about  Dickens  to  think  how  much 
first-class  work  he  did  and  how  almost  all  of  it 
was  mixed  up  with  every  kind  of  cheap,  second- 
rate  matter.  I  am  very  fond  of  him.  There  are 
innumerable  characters  that  he  has  created  which 
symbolize  vices,  virtues,  follies,  and  the  like  almost 
as  well  as  the  characters  in  Bunyan;  and  there- 
fore I  think  the  wise  thing  to  do  is  simply  to  skip 
the  bosh  and  twaddle  and  vulgarity  and  untruth, 
and  get  the  benefit  out  of  the  rest.  Of  course 
one  fundamental  difference  between  Thackeray 
and  Dickens  is  that  Thackeray  was  a  gentleman 
and  Dickens  was  not.  But  a  man  might  do  some 
mighty  good  work  and  not  be  a  gentleman  in 
any  sense. 

"martin  chuzzlewit" 
^  T-  White  House,  February  29,  1908. 

Dearest  Kermit: 

Of  course  I  entirely  agree  with  you  about  "Mar- 
tin Chuzzlewit."  But  the  point  seems  to  me  that 
the  preposterous  perversion  of  truth  and  the  111- 

[219  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

nature  and  malice  of  the  book  are  of  consequence 
chiefly  as  indicating  Dickens'  own  character, 
about  which  I  care  not  a  rap;  whereas,  the  char- 
acters in  American  shortcomings  and  vices  and 
foUies  as  typified  are  immortal,  and,  moreover, 
can  be  studied  with  great  profit  by  all  of  us  to- 
day. Dickens  was  an  ill-natured,  selfish  cad  and 
boor,  who  had  no  understanding  of  what  the  word 
gentleman  meant,  and  no  appreciation  of  hos- 
pitality or  good  treatment.  He  was  utterly  in- 
capable of  seeing  the  high  purpose  and  the  real 
greatness  which  (in  spite  of  the  presence  also 
of  much  that  was  bad  or  vile)  could  have  been 
visible  all  around  him  here  in  America  to  any 
man  whose  vision  was  both  keen  and  lofty.  He 
could  not  see  the  qualities  of  the  young  men  grow- 
ing up  here,  though  it  was  these  qualities  that 
enabled  these  men  to  conquer  the  West  and  to 
fight  to  a  finish  the  great  Civil  War,  and  though 
they  were  to  produce  leadership  like  that  of  Lin- 
coln, Lee,  and  Grant.  Naturally  he  would  think 
there  was  no  gentleman  in  New  York,  because 
by  no  possibility  could  he  have  recognized  a  gentle- 
[220] 


NOTABLE  DICKENS  QUOTATION 

man  if  he  had  met  one.  Naturally  he  would  con- 
demn all  America  because  he  had  not  the  soul 
to  see  what  America  was  really  doing.  But  he 
was  in  his  element  in  describing  with  bitter  truth- 
fulness Scadder  and  Jefferson  Brick,  and  Elijah 
Pogram,  and  Hannibal  ChoUup,  and  Mrs.  Hominy 
and  the  various  other  characters,  great  and  small, 
that  have  always  made  me  enjoy  "Martin  Chuz- 
zlewit."  Most  of  these  characters  we  still  have 
with  us. 

GOOD   READING   FOR   PACIFISTS 
^  T^  March  4,  1908. 

Dearest  Kermit: 

You  have  recently  been  writing  me  about 
Dickens.  Senator  Lodge  gave  me  the  following 
first-class  quotation  from  a  piece  by  Dickens  about 
"Proposals  for  Amusing  Posterity": 

"And  I  would  suggest  that  if  a  body  of  gentle- 
men possessing  their  full  phrenological  share  of 
the  combative  and  antagonistic  organs,  could 
only  be  induced  to  form  themselves  into  a  society 
for  Declaiming  about  Peace,  with  a  very  con- 
siderable war-whoop  against  all  non-declaimers; 
[  221  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

and  if  they  could  only  be  prevailed  upon  to  sum 
up  eloquently  the  many  unspeakable  miseries  and 
horrors  of  War,  and  to  present  them  to  their  own 
country  as  a  conclusive  reason  for  its  being  un- 
defended against  War,  and  becoming  a  prey  of 
the  first  despot  who  might  choose  to  inflict  those 
miseries  and  horrors — why  then  I  really  beUeve 
we  should  have  got  to  the  very  best  joke  we  could 
hope  to  have  in  our  whole  Complete  Jest-Book 
for  Posterity  and  might  fold  our  arms  and  rest 
convinced  that  we  had  done  enough  for  that  dis- 
cerning Patriarch's  amusement." 

This  ought  to  be  read  before  all  the  tomfool 
peace  societies  and  anti-imperialist  societies  of 
the  present-day. 

quentin  as  a  ball-player 

Dearest  Archie  :         ''"^''^  «°"^<='  ^^^^^^ «'  ^^"^^ 

Yesterday  morning  Quentin  brought  down  all 
his  Force  School  baseball  nine  to  practise  on  the 
White  House  grounds.  It  was  great  fun  to  see 
them,  and  Quentin  made  a  run.  It  reminded  me 
of  when  you  used  to  come  down  with  the  Friend's 
[222] 


"MEANEST  KID  IN  TOWN" 

School  eleven.  Moreover,  I  was  reminded  of  the 
occasional  rows  in  the  eleven  by  an  outburst  in 
connection  with  the  nine  which  resulted  in  their 
putting  off  of  it  a  small  boy  who  Quentin  assured 
me  was  the  "meanest  kid  in  town."  I  like  to  see 
Quentin  practising  baseball.  It  gives  me  hopes 
that  one  of  my  boys  will  not  take  after  his  father 
in  this  respect,  and  will  prove  able  to  play  the 
national  game ! 

Ethel  has  a  delightful  new  dog — a  white  bull 
terrier — not  much  more  than  a  puppy  as  yet. 
She  has  named  it  Mike  and  it  seems  very  affec- 
tionate. Scamp  is  really  an  extraordinary  ratter, 
and  kills  a  great  many  rats  in  the  White  House, 
in  the  cellars  and  on  the  lower  floor  and  among 
the  machinery.  He  is  really  a  very  nice  little 
dog. 

T^  .  White  House,  March  15,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Quentin  is  now  taking  a  great  interest  in  base- 
ball.   Yesterday  the  Force  School  nine,  on  which 
he  plays  second  base,  played  the  P  Street  nine  on 
the   White   House   grounds    where   Quentin   has 
[223] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

marked  out  a  diamond.  The  Force  School  nine 
was  victorious  by  a  score  of  22  to  5.  I  told  Quen- 
tin  I  was  afraid  the  P  Street  boys  must  have  felt 
badly  and  he  answered,  "Oh,  I  guess  not;  you 
see  I  filled  them  up  with  lemonade  afterward ! " 

Charlie  Taft  is  on  his  nine. 

Did  you  hear  of  the  dreadful  time  Ethel  had 
with  her  new  bull  terrier,  Mike.^  She  was  out 
riding  with  Fitz  Lee,  who  was  on  Roswell,  and 
Mike  was  following.  They  suppose  that  Fidelity 
must  have  accidentally  kicked  Mike.  The  first 
they  knew  the  bulldog  sprang  at  the  little  mare's 
throat.  She  fought  pluckily,  rearing  and  plung- 
ing, and  shook  him  off,  and  then  Ethel  galloped 
away.  As  soon  as  she  halted,  Mike  overtook 
her  and  attacked  Fidelity  again.  He  seized  her 
by  the  shoulder  and  tried  to  seize  her  by  the  throat, 
and  twice  Ethel  had  to  break  away  and  gallop 
off,  Fitz  Lee  endeavoring  in  vain  to  catch  the 
dog.  Finally  he  succeeded,  just  as  Mike  had 
got  Fidelity  by  the  hock.  He  had  to  give  Mike  a 
tremendous  beating  to  restore  him  to  obedience; 
but  of  course  Mike  will  have  to  be  disposed  of. 
[224] 


A  PRESIDENTIAL  REBUKE 

Fidelity  was  bitten  in  several  places  and  it  was 
a  wonder  that  Ethel  was  able  to  keep  her  seat, 
because  naturally  the  frightened  little  mare  reared 
and  plunged  and  ran. 

FOUR  SHEEPISH  SMALL  BOYS 

Dearest  Aechie:         ^'''  ^ouse,  April  n,  1908. 

Ethel  has  bought  on  trial  an  eight-months  bull- 
dog pup.  He  is  very  cunning,  very  friendly,  and 
wriggles  all  over  in  a  frantic  desire  to  be  petted. 

Quentin  really  seems  to  be  getting  on  pretty 
well  with  his  baseball.  In  each  of  the  last  two 
games  he  made  a  base  hit  and  a  run.  I  have  just 
had  to  give  him  and  three  of  his  associates  a 
dressing  down — one  of  the  three  being  Charlie 
Taft.  Yesterday  afternoon  was  rainy,  and  four 
of  them  played  five  hours  inside  the  White  House. 
They  were  very  boisterous  and  were  all  the  time 
on  the  verge  of  mischief,  and  finally  they  made 
spit-balls  and  deliberately  put  them  on  the  por- 
traits. I  did  not  discover  it  until  after  dinner, 
and  then  pulled  Quentin  out  of  bed  and  had  him 
take  them  all  off  the  portraits,  and  this  morning 
[225] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

required  him  to  bring  in  the  three  other  culprits 
before  me.  I  explained  to  them  that  they  had 
acted  like  boors;  that  it  would  have  been  a  dis- 
grace to  have  behaved  so  in  any  gentleman's 
house;  that  Quentin  could  have  no  friend  to  see 
him,  and  the  other  three  could  not  come  inside 
the  White  House,  until  I  felt  that  a  sufficient 
time  had  elapsed  to  serve  as  punishment.  They 
were  four  very  sheepish  small  boys  when  I  got 
through  with  them. 

JOHN   BURROUGHS  AND   THE   FLYING   SQUIRRELS 

^  ,  White  House,  Mav  10,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Mother  and  I  had  great  fun  at  Pine  Knot.    Mr. 

Burroughs,    whom   I   call   Oom   John,    was   with 

us  and  we  greatly  enjoyed  having  him.    But  one 

night   he   fell    into   great   disgrace !      The   flying 

squirrels  that  were  there  last  Christmas  had  raised 

a  brood,  having  built  a  large  nest  inside  of  the 

room  in  which  you  used  to  sleep  and  in  which 

John  Burroughs  slept.     Of  course  they  held  high 

carnival  at    night-time.     Mother  and  I   do  not 

[226] 


RESTLESS  FLYING  SQUIRRELS 

mind  them  at  all,  and  indeed  rather  like  to  hear 
them  scrambling  about,  and  then  as  a  sequel  to 
a  sudden  frantic  fight  between  two  of  them,  hear- 
ing or  seeing  one  little  fellow  come  plump  down 
to  the  floor  and  scuttle  off  again  to  the  wall.  But 
one  night  they  waked  up  John  Burroughs  and 
he  spent  a  misguided  hour  hunting  for  the  nest, 
and  when  he  found  it  took  it  down  and  caught 
two  of  the  young  squirrels  and  put  them  in  a 
basket.  The  next  day  under  Mother's  direction 
I  took  them  out,  getting  my  fingers  somewhat 
bitten  in  the  process,  and  loosed  them  in  our  room, 
where  we  had  previously  put  back  the  nest.  I 
do  not  think  John  Burroughs  profited  by  his  mis- 
conduct, because  the  squirrels  were  more  active 
than  ever  that  night  both  in  his  room  and  ours, 
the  disturbance  in  their  family  affairs  having 
evidently  made  them  restless ! 

BEAUTY   OF   WHITE   HOUSE    GROUNDS 

Dearest  Archie:  "^"^  H''"'^'  ^^^  ^''  ^^^S- 

Quentin  is  really   doing  pretty   well   with  his 
baseball,  and  he  is  perfectly  absorbed  in  it.    He 

[227] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

now  occasionally  makes  a  base  hit  if  the  opposing 
pitcher  is  very  bad;  and  his  nine  wins  more  than 
one-haK  of  its  games. 

The  grounds  are  too  lovely  for  anything,  and 
spring  is  here,  or  rather  early  summer,  in  full 
force.  Mother's  flower-gardens  are  now  as  beau- 
tiful as  possible,  and  the  iron  railings  of  the  fences 
south  of  them  are  covered  with  clematis  and  roses 
in  bloom.  The  trees  are  in  full  foliage  and  the 
grass  brilliant  green,  and  my  friends,  the  warblers, 
are  trooping  to  the  north  in  full  force. 

QUENTIN  AND   A    BEEHIVE 
^  .  White  House,  May  30,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Quentin  has  met  with  many  adventures  this 
week;  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  has  had  a  bad 
cough  which  has  tended  to  interrupt  the  variety 
of  his  career.  He  has  become  greatly  interested 
in  bees,  and  the  other  day  started  down  to  get 
a  beehive  from  somewhere,  being  accompanied 
by  a  mongrel  looking  small  boy  as  to  whose  name 
I  inquired.  When  repeated  by  Quentin  it  was 
[228] 


BEES  IN  SCHOOL 


obviously  an  Italian  name.  I  asked  who  he  was 
and  Quentin  responded:  "Oh,  his  father  keeps 
a  fruit-stand."  However,  they  got  their  bees 
all  right  and  Quentin  took  the  hive  up  to  a  school 
exhibit.  There  some  of  the  bees  got  out  and  were 
left  behind  ("Poor  homeless  miserables,"  as  Quen- 
tin remarked  of  them),  and  yesterday  they  at 
intervals  added  great  zest  to  life  in  the  classroom. 
The  hive  now  reposes  in  the  garden  and  Scamp 
surveys  it  for  hours  at  a  time  with  absorbed  in- 
terest. After  a  while  he  will  get  to  investigating 
it,  and  then  he  will  find  out  more  than  he  expects 
to. 

This  afternoon  Quentin  was  not  allowed  to  play 
ball  because  of  his  cough,  so  he  was  keeping  the 
score  when  a  foul  tip  caught  him  in  the  eye.  It 
was  quite  a  bad  blow,  but  Quentin  was  very  plucky 
about  it  and  declined  to  go  in  until  the  game  was 
finished,  an  hour  or  so  later.  By  that  time  his 
eye  had  completely  shut  up  and  he  now  has  a 
most  magnificent  bandage  around  his  head  over 
that  eye,  and  feels  much  like  a  baseball  hero.  I 
came  in  after  dinner  to  take  a  look  at  him  and 
[229  1 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

to  my  immense  amusement  found  that  he  was 
lying  flat  on  his  back  in  bed  saying  his  prayers, 
while  Mademoiselle  was  kneeling  down.  It  took 
me  a  moment  or  two  to  grasp  the  fact  that  good 
Mademoiselle  wished  to  impress  on  him  that  it 
was  not  right  to  say  his  prayers  unless  he  knelt 
down,  and  as  that  in  this  case  he  could  not  kneel 
down  she  would  do  it  in  his  place ! 

QUENTIN  AND   TURNER 
{To  Mrs.  Nicholas  Longworth,  Cincinnatiy  Ohio) 

Oyster  Bay,  June  29,  1908. 

Quentin  is  really  too  funny  for  anything.  He 
got  his  legs  fearfully  sunburned  the  other  day, 
and  they  blistered,  became  inflamed,  and  ever- 
faithful  Mother  had  to  hold  a  clinic  on  him.  Eye- 
ing his  blistered  and  scarlet  legs,  he  remarked, 
"They  look  like  a  Turner  sunset,  don't  they.''" 
And  then,  after  a  pause,  "I  won't  be  caught  again 
this  way!  quoth  the  raven,  *  Nevermore !' "  I 
was  not  surprised  at  his  quoting  Poe,  but  I  would 
like  to  know  where  the  ten-year-old  scamp  picked 
up  any  knowledge  of  Turner's  sunsets. 
[230] 


QUENTIN'S  BUSINESS  VENTURE 

QUENTIN  AND   THE  PIG 

^  T--  White  House,  October  17,  1908. 

Dearest  Kermit: 

Quentin  performed  a  characteristic  feat  yester- 
day. He  heard  that  Schmidt,  the  animal  man, 
wanted  a  small  pig,  and  decided  that  he  would 
turn  an  honest  penny  by  supplying  the  want. 
So  out  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  school  he  called 
on  an  elderly  darkey  who,  he  had  seen,  possessed 
little  pigs;  bought  one;  popped  it  into  a  bag; 
astutely  dodged  the  school — having  a  well-founded 
distrust  of  how  the  boys  would  feel  toward  his 
passage  with  the  pig — and  took  the  car  for  home. 
By  that  time  the  pig  had  freed  itself  from  the 
bag,  and,  as  he  explained,  he  journeyed  in  with 
a  "small  squealish  pig"  under  his  arm;  but  as 
the  conductor  was  a  friend  of  his  he  was  not  put 
off.  He  bought  it  for  a  dollar  and  sold  it  to  Schmidt 
for  a  dollar  and  a  quarter,  and  feels  as  if  he  had 
found  a  permanent  line  of  business.  Schmidt 
then  festooned  it  in  red  ribbons  and  sent  it  to 
parade  the  streets.  I  gather  that  Quentin  led 
[231  ] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

it  around  for  part  of  the  parade,  but  he  was  some- 
what vague  on  this  point,  evidently  being  a  Httle 
uncertain  as  to  our  approval  of  the  move. 

A   PRESIDENTIAL  FALL 

^  .  White  House,  Nov.  8,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Quentin  is  getting  along  very  well;  he  plays 
centre  on  his  football  eleven,  and  in  a  match  for 
juniors  in  tennis  he  got  into  the  semi-finals.  What 
is  more  important,  he  seems  to  be  doing  very  well 
with  his  studies,  and  to  get  on  well  with  the  boys, 
and  is  evidently  beginning  to  like  the  school.  He 
has  shown  himself  very  manly.  Kermit  is  home 
now,  and  is  a  perfect  dear. 

The  other  day  while  taking  a  scramble  walk 
over  Rock  Creek,  when  I  came  to  that  smooth- 
face  of  rock  which  we  get  round  by  holding  on  to 
the  little  bit  of  knob  that  we  call  the  Button,  the 
top  of  this  button  came  off  between  my  thumb 
and  forefinger.  I  hadn't  supposed  that  I  was 
putting  much  weight  on  it,  but  evidently  I  was, 
for  I  promptly  lost  my  balance,  and  finding  I 
[232] 


QUENTIN'S  ACTIVE  DAY 


was  falling,  I  sprang  out  into  the  creek.  There 
were  big  rocks  in  it,  and  the  water  was  rather 
shallow,  but  I  landed  all  right  and  didn't  hurt 
myself  the  least  bit  in  the  world. 

MORE  ABOUT   QUENTIN 

^  .  White  House,  Nov.  22,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

I  handed  your  note  and  the  two  dollar  bill  to 
Quentin,  and  he  was  perfectly  delighted.  It  came 
in  very  handy,  because  poor  Quentin  has  been 
in  bed  wdth  his  leg  in  a  plaster  cast,  and  the  two 
dollars  I  think  went  to  make  up  a  fund  with  which 
he  purchased  a  fascinating  little  steam-engine, 
which  has  been  a  great  source  of  amusement  to 
him.  He  is  out  to-day  visiting  some  friends,  al- 
though his  leg  is  still  in  a  cast.  He  has  a  great 
turn  for  mechanics. 

^  .  White  House,  Nov.  27,  1908. 

Blessed  Archie: 

It  is  fine  to  hear  from  you  and  to  know  you 

are  having  a  good  time.     Quentin,  I  am  happy 

to  say,  is  now  thoroughly  devoted  to  his  school. 

[233] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

He  feels  that  he  is  a  real  Episcopal  High  School 
boy,  and  takes  the  keenest  interest  in  everything. 
Yesterday,  Thanksgiving  Day,  he  had  various 
friends  here.  His  leg  was  out  of  plaster  and  there 
was  nothing  he  did  not  do.  He  roller-skated; 
he  practised  football;  he  had  engineering  work 
and  electrical  work;  he  went  all  around  the  city; 
he  romped  all  over  the  White  House;  he  went 
to  the  slaughter-house  and  got  a  pig  for  Thanks- 
giving dinner. 

Ethel  is  perfectly  devoted  to  Ace,  who  adores 
her.  The  other  day  he  was  lost  for  a  little  while; 
he  had  gone  off  on  a  side  street  and  unfortunately 
saw  a  cat  in  a  stable  and  rushed  in  and  killed  it, 
and  they  had  him  tied  up  there  when  one  of  our 
men  found  him. 

In  a  way  I  know  that  Mother  misses  Scamp, 
but  in  another  way  she  does  not,  for  now  all  the 
squirrels  are  very  tame  and  cunning  and  are  hop- 
ping about  the  lawn  and  down  on  the  paths  all 
the  time,  so  that  we  see  them  whenever  we  walk, 
and  they  are  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  us. 

[234] 


ARCHIE  AS  A  HUNTER 


^  .  White  House,  Dec.  3,  1908. 

Dearest  Archie: 

I  have  a  very  strong  presentiment  that  Santa 
Claus  will  not  forget  that  watch !  Quentin  went 
out  shooting  with  Dr.  Rixey  on  Monday  and 
killed  three  rabbits,  which  I  think  was  pretty 
good.  He  came  back  very  dirty  and  very 
triumphant,  and  Mother,  feeling  just  as  trium- 
phant, brought  him  promptly  over  with  his  gun 
and  his  three  rabbits  to  see  me  in  the  office.  On 
most  days  now  he  rides  out  to  school,  usually 
on  Achilles.  Very  shortly  he  will  begin  to  spend 
his  nights  at  the  school,  however.  He  has  become 
sincerely  attached  to  the  school,  and  at  the  mo- 
ment thinks  he  would  rather  stay  there  than  go 
to  Groton;  but  this  is  a  thought  he  will  get  over — 
with  Mother's  active  assistance.  He  has  all  kinds 
of  friends,  including  some  who  are  on  a  hockey 
team  with  him  here  in  the  city.  The  hockey  team 
apparently  plays  hockey  now  and  then,  but  only 
very  occasionally,  and  spends  most  of  the  time 
disciplining  its  own  members. 


[235] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

In  1909,  after  retiring  from  the  Presidency, 
Colonel  Roosevelt  went  on  a  hunting  trip  in  Africa, 
wi-iting  as  usual  to  his  children  while  away. 

TRIBUTE   TO   KERMIT 

^  ^  On  the  'Nzor  River,  Nov.  13,  1909. 

Darling  Ethel: 

Here  we  are,  by  a  real  tropical  river,  with  game 
all  around,  and  no  human  being  within  several 
days'  journey.  At  night  the  hyenas  come  round 
the  camp,  uttering  their  queer  howls;  and  once 
or  twice  we  have  heard  lions;  but  unfortunately 
have  never  seen  them.  Kermit  killed  a  leopard 
yesterday.  He  has  really  done  so  very  well !  It 
is  rare  for  a  boy  with  his  refined  tastes  and  his 
genuine  appreciation  of  literature — and  of  so 
much  else — to  be  also  an  exceptionally  bold  and 
hardy  sportsman.  He  is  still  altogether  too  reck- 
less; but  by  my  hen-with-one-chicken  attitude, 
I  thinlc  I  shall  get  him  out  of  Africa  uninjured; 
and  his  keenness,  cool  nerve,  horsemanship,  hardi- 
hood, endurance,  and  good  eyesight  make  him  a 
really  good  wilderness  hunter.  We  have  become 
genuinely  attached  to  Cunninghame  and  Tarle- 

[236] 


CHANT  OF  AFRICAN  PORTERS 

ton,  and  all  tkree  naturalists,  especially  Heller; 
and  also  to  our  funny  black  attendants.  The 
porters  always  amuse  us;  at  this  moment  about 
thirty  of  them  are  bringing  in  the  wood  for  the 
camp  fires,  which  burn  all  night;  and  they  are 
all  chanting  in  chorus,  the  chant  being  nothing 
but  the  words  ''Wood — plenty  of  wood  to  burn !" 
A  Merry  Christmas  to  you !  And  to  Archie 
and  Quentin.  How  I  wish  I  were  to  be  with  you 
all,  no  matter  how  cold  it  might  be  at  Sagamore; 
but  I  suppose  we  shall  be  sweltering  under  mos- 
quito nets  in  Uganda. 

LONGING   FOR   HOME 
^  ^  Campalla,  Dec.  23,  1909. 

Blessedest  Ethely-bye: 

Here  we  are,  the  most  wise  B avian — partic- 
ularly nice — and  the  Elderly  Parent,  on  the  last 
stage  of  their  journey.  I  am  enjoying  it  all,  but 
I  think  Kermit  regards  me  as  a  little  soft,  because 
I  am  so  eagerly  looking  forward  to  the  end,  when 
I  shall  see  darling,  pretty  Mother,  my  own  sweet- 
heart, and  the  very  nicest  of  all  nice  daughters — 
[237] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

you  blessed  girlie.  Do  you  remember  when  you 
explained,  with  some  asperity,  that  of  course 
you  wished  Ted  were  at  home,  because  you  didn't 
have  anybody  as  a  really  intimate  companion, 
whereas  Mother  had  "old  Father"?  It  is  a  great 
comfort  to  have  a  daughter  to  whom  I  can  write 
about  all  kinds  of  intimate  things ! 

This  is  a  most  interesting  place.  We  crossed 
the  great  Nyanza  Lake,  in  a  comfortable  steamer, 
in  24  hours,  seeing  a  lovely  sunset  across  the  vast 
expanse  of  waters;  and  the  moonlight  later  was 
as  lovely.  Here  it  is  as  hot  as  one  would  expect 
directly  on  the  Equator,  and  the  brilliant  green 
landscape  is  fairly  painted  with  even  more  bril- 
liant flowers,  on  trees,  bush,  and  vines;  while  the 
strange,  semi-civilized  people  are  most  interest- 
ing. The  queer  little  king's  Prime  Minister,  an 
exceedingly  competent,  gorgeously  dressed,  black 
man,  reminds  Kermit  of  a  rather  civilized  Um- 
slopagaar — if  that  is  the  way  you  spell  Rider 
Haggard's  Zulu  hero. 

In  this  little  native  town  we  are  driven  round 
in  rickshaws,  each  with  four  men  pushing  and 
[238] 


GOODBYE  TO  AFRICA 


pulling,  who  utter  a  queer,  clanging  note  of  ex- 
clamation in  chorus,  every  few  seconds,  hour  after 
hour. 

THE   LAST   HUNT 

^  ,  Gondokoro,  Feb.  27,  1910. 

Dearest  Archie: 

Here,  much  to  my  pleasure,  I  find  your  letter 

written  after  the  snow-storm  at  Sagamore.     No 

snow  here  !    On  two  or  three  days  the  thermometer 

at  noon  has  stood  at  115  degrees  in  the  shade. 

All  three  naturalists  and  Mr.  Cunninghame,  the 

guide,  have  been  sick,  and  so  Kermit  and  I  made 

our  last  hunt  alone,  going  for  eight  days  into  the 

Lado.     We  were  very  successful,  getting  among 

other  things  three  giant  eland,  which  are  great 

prizes.    We  worked  hard;  Kermit  of  course  worked 

hardest,  for  he  is  really  a  first-class  walker  and 

runner;   I  had  to  go  slowly,  but  I  kept  at  it  all 

day  and  every  day.     Kermit  has  really  become 

not  only  an  excellent  hunter  but  also  a  responsible 

and  trustworthy  man,  fit  to  lead;    he  managed 

the  whole  caravan  and  after  hunting  all  day  he 

would  sit  up  half  the  night  taking  care  of  the 

[239] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN 

skins.  He  is  also  the  nicest  possible  companion. 
We  are  both  very  much  attached  to  our  gun- 
bearers  and  tent  boys,  and  will  be  sorry  to  part 
with  them. 

QUENTIN   GROWN-UP 

^  ,  New  York,  Dec.  23,  1911. 

Dear  Archie: 

Quentin  turned  up  last  night.  He  is  half  an 
inch  taller  than  I  am,  and  is  in  great  shape.  He 
is  much  less  fat  than  he  was,  and  seems  to  be 
turning  out  right  in  every  way.  I  was  amused 
to  have  him  sit  down  and  play  the  piano  pretty 
well.  We  miss  you  dreadfully  now  that  Christ- 
mas has  come.  The  family  went  into  revolt  about 
my  slouch  hat,  which  Quentin  christened  "Old 
Mizzoura,"  and  so  I  have  had  to  buy  another 
with  a  less  pronounced  crown  and  brim.  We 
all  drank  your  good  health  at  dinner. 


[240] 


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